Monday, April 13, 2009

We live with our fears
And yet find the time to love.
How else can it be?


On another hike today in the hills above Superior, I stumbled upon an abandoned mine. Old-time litter was scattered beneath the palo verde trees. Rusty cans. Machine parts. Broken pottery. I picked up a piece of a small bowl. It was completely covered in dirt. I rubbed the dirt away with my thumb and saw the flying bird. Couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence; I've been thinking a lot about birds lately (thus the haiku yesterday). With thousands (millions?) of bits of information bombarding us everyday, it is easy to find coincidences.

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