Bare əθ isn’t bare. Look closely; their tracks are there. Absence signifies more than fullness. History has passed over this spot. Sack the dumps and you will find more. We who were here have laid bare the əθ. Bare of life, but not of its passing. We was here. We passed on. Onward we go.
It’s raining as I type these words and this little screen is getting wet, but that’s okay because I have an unquenchable fire within me.
Don’t bother waiting for the moon to eclipse the sun – you can experience a Solar Eclipse within the next few hours*.
Just hang fire until night-time begins and – presto – you’re there!
*Unless you’re way, way, waaaay up in the north.
Sitting in the dining-room musing on the nature of nature I considered which of the things around me were natural and I could only find one: my body.
There were many un-natural things: cup, phone, table, tablecloth, pen, notebook, clothing, floor, pillar, house – all manufactured or processed in one way or another.
So I asked myself ‘how do I connect with nature?’ In answer, I went outside.
I crumbled some earth and breathed some air. I soaked up what milky sunshine I could with the bread of my body and I caressed a tree and a leaf. I dabbled my fingers in the dew on the grass. And lo – it was good.
All these things had come into being, entirely untroubled by the designs of man.
Then I wondered what I could do to help these natural things to thrive.