All along the trail, I saw huge white mushrooms.  Where did these come from?  They have suddenly appeared in the lawns, under the trees, next to the sidewalks.  If they are disturbed, i.e. pulled up, they return in the same spot.  When they emerge from the ground, they push the soil up above them leaving a dirt pile. My spouse asked me how mushrooms spread and I’m not sure.  By their rhizomes?  By spores?  It warrants further attention.  I thought they only grew in moist, dark places, neither of which describe Boulder.  What other surprises do these fungi hold?

I looked up at the Flatirons and the top was hidden.  It reflected how I felt, with my head in the clouds, was I looking into a sort of mirror?  Obscure and foggy with wisps of haze wafting in the breeze.   Yep, exactly how I felt.

Yesterday was WINDY!! when I walked.  So today, in typical “lock the barn door after the horse has been stolen” fashion, I bundled up with a sweater and ear muffs (my ears hate the cold).  Of course, I didn’t really need either one; the wind was then, now was warm and still.  Funny, though, how my recent experiences color my expectations of what will happen next, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, sometimes with little effect.

If I try to pay attention to “now” instead of “then” how do my experiences change?

But does it discount learning if I don’t adapt?   Maybe.  If I take a reading of the indicators and feel “cold” and “WINDY!!“, then pack the jacket and muffs because I learned what not having them is like.  But if I just think what it was like yesterday without paying attention, I’ll likely have to lug them unused.

Today’s walk was peaceful and quiet.  I didn’t get out too early but since it is a holiday most people didn’t stir around until later.  The cool of the morning coupled with the clear sky made ideal walking conditions.

Since the environment was so peaceful, I tried to turn off some of the “noise” in my head.  All that self-talk distracts me from attending to the wide, wide world.  But it isn’t easy to make my babble go away.  Part of the trick is to recognize that it’s there, then to substitute it with something gentle.  It works…sometimes.

I’d rather listen to something else than all that jammering that I create.  I know that something better is trying to get in.  But I block the way.  I’ll keep trying, though.  It’s worth it.

Joy.  Today as I meandered watching the squirrels dart up and down trees, birds flit on and off the grasses, cats stretch and yawn, I couldn’t help but wonder if what I was seeing was joy.  Could what I’ve read in some science documents be true?  Do animals act only in response to drives for food, reproduction, or safety?  They sure seem to be having a good time.  Or do I project?

I’m thinking that drives are too barren for me to embrace totally.  Even if I anthropomorphize, isn’t believing in a smidge of joy better than thinking too mechanistically?

I’m not sure what harm it does to believe that animals experience joy.  But I do know that they give it.

Another different route today, this time up, up, up the hill and then back down.  I went up slowly, taking my time.  Looking around, I admired the houses, saw some new construction and landscaping, and then, I stopped in my tracks as something going even slower than myself crossed my path.  A snail was moving along the middle of the sidewalk.  He was fully extended moving at his own pace.  But where was he going?  There were tall plants on one side of the walk and grass on the other.  What would motivate him to seek a new venue?  What signals was he paying attention to?  How would he know when he got there?

I stood and watched him move along his slippery train for a while, but he didn’t change directions just continued right down the center of the walkway.  Taking advantage of my height, I checked in front and behind to determine if he was in danger of getting stepped on.  No immediate danger, so I headed on my way.

His determination and persistence keep coming to mind, though.  I hope he found what he was looking for.