Sometimes those around us are difficult to understand.  Today on my walk, I looked up and saw the moon hanging over the Flatirons.  It was wispy and translucent, like the clouds around it.  Nothing about it looked solid or enduring, appearing more like a pile of soap bubbles that could easily be dispersed by a puff of wind than like a ball of rocks and dirt.

Surprised to see it there at 8:30 a.m., I thought of how often I admire the moon but rarely know where to expect to find it in the sky.  Its movements are foreign to me despite many years observing it.  Even from night to morning, it traverses a path that I cannot predict.

Is it a problem of attention?  In part.  Could I learn the trajectory of the moon throughout the year?  Of course, as its path is well know.  Why don’t I take the time to then?  Ah, therein lies an interesting question that I cannot answer; there are a myriad of reasons.  For now, let’s just say that I like surprises.

Today is the first day of the new school year.  As we live practically across from the high school, the increase in number of cars parked along the street was noteworthy.  The odd thing was, though, that I saw no people.  I suppose everyone was in the school getting their work done, but I would have thought there would be more coming and going as things were just gettting organized.

The first day is always a little jittery…new schedules, new faces, new expectations.  It won’t take long, though,   and it will all be familiar again.

Oh yes.  I saw the police stationing the automatic speed monitor at the end of the street.  I hope no one gets a rude reminder of the speed limits along the route in front of the school.  Welcome back!

It is raining steadily here for the first time months. While we have enjoyed a few cooler days recently, most of the summer has been relentlessly sunny, translated as hot and dry. So why wouldn’t I run out into the rain screaming for joy? Why am I staying holed up in my house unwilling to get my little footsies wet?

I don’t know. If I get myself worked up for a stroll, I’ll come back and add something. In the meantime, I am cozy and dry resisting the outside.

At the end of my walk, I returned home to find four crows in the yard and the street. They clearly were enjoying a repast of something, though I couldn’t tell what it was. Did someone drop bread for them? Maybe something spilled headed for the dumpster? I couldn’t tell. Then I heard a cawing overheard. I looked up and saw eight crows on the roof of our house all eating the same tasty morsels. Suddenly one of them dropped the snack and it rolled down the roof and onto the deck. Ah! Small apples! Now I understood how those rogue fruits found their way into our small garden! Thanks fellas.

What a good walk…I made a new friend!  The white and gray cat up the way came out yesterday and today for a good ear scratch.  She seems sweet and does like the attention.  I confess that I enjoyed it too.

On my walk this morning the verticality of the dried grasses along the path was particularly striking. The stalks are dry now, brown and crisp. The seeds wait at the top of the stalks, to be nibbled, to blow across the fields, to fall into the soil below. There is no vitality in the plants; the heat and dry has sapped them of life. But they are only on hiatus. Growth lies dormant. When conditions change and are right again, they will repeat the cycle.

Comforting, isn’t it?