The weather has taken a turn over the weekend. It blew in heavy, fast, and is hanging low, but the wildfire smoke has drifted into our region. We must both be heartfelt for those in peril and reminded to feel lucky that this year we have been wet, oh so wet with rain, that we are still mostly green, still laden with wildflowers, and still moist almost daily. The grasses are turning to seed, it is true, but many more flowers are alive than expected still. I found mushrooms in the forest over the weekend. This too was unexpected but makes the haze seem okay in the comparison.
It is a mild post today, me firmly removing myself from my little soapbox upon this site. I worry still, but it is a troubling conceptual shift that seems to needle me most. The shift in expression, freedom, liberty, acquiescence… a unique shift, but we will focus upon our real world. A friend reminded me of that just this morning. I am, she is, we are, in the real world. We see nature daily. We watch the stars unimpeded by artificial light. We rarely hear traffic, save for the construction workers, and life is real here. Connected. Involved. Necessary to pay attention to your environment. Necessary to adapt in many ways versus the human arrogance of molding the world to its will.
Yes, this is the real world. It is now for me and shall be for many years to come.