Today, I am home. It is a sunny Saturday, and just as I am about to begin mindlessly shoveling spinach-kale salad into my mouth like a hungry hungry hippo going after marbles*, I stop myself. With great exaggerated purpose, I push back from the kitchen table and march myself and salad out to our patio table that overlooks a pond. I sit, smiling in contentment, while marveling at the exotic birds that my family can’t readily enjoy in St. Louis or Portland, unless they were to visit the zoo.
I soon notice that I have company. One of the battalions of small lizards that populate the area is watching me eat. Perhaps it was a “large headed anole”, but that would be confirmed only after googling. He might very well have been a relative of, or an actual, Rescue Lizard. It is my self-assigned duty to pounce on the baby lizards and miniscule frog infants that loved to follow us into our nice, cool home. I crawl around, cupping my hands to capture them, only to have them frantically trying to flee. How they tickle my palms! The operation is a success if I manage to trap the little guy and set him/her/it safely back outside on a broad leaf. It is a sad day, however, if they are faster and run behind a bookcase. They are now doomed.
So, there I sat with my new acquaintance and shared a Moment. Each of us was enjoying the gentle breeze as we basked in the sun. I marveled at the creature’s ability to remain so immobile. Little majestic lizard posing for its portrait. That sort of composure is unimaginable to me, even during yoga, when I am one big squirm that cannot be contained no matter how many ohms are sounded out. Yet, this tiny creature stays frozen in position like an accomplished Yogi.
Lunch is over. I gather up my bowl to return to the coolness of my condo. But then I turn back, wanting to leave a tiny piece of lettuce for my new BFF. That was when I realized what sparked his motivation to remain so calm and still.
He was dead.
And suddenly it was all too clear; the parallels to our country. Our entire world! You think you’re having a discussion, but the other side isn’t listening. Or alive, for that matter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I THINK THIS WAS ONCE PUBLISHED IN MEDIUM, BUT WHAT REMINDED ME TO SHARE WAS TODAY’S POST BY MICHAEL MEYERHOFER’S: POEM FOR THE BUG ON MY BASEMENT FLOOR. CHECK IT OUT: https://eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2017/01/27/poem-for-the-bug-on-my-basement-floor/
*FYI = Hungry Hungry Hippos is a children’s game.