Summer is is wrap cold hard rain blew in from the west this morning driving me in tattered Italian robe back into the house. Susanne is in England with my global phone so Cormac and I are bachelors-in-residence, all quite groovy with Saturday hot sunny up on the Carter Lake boulders. Ryan came back after taking the cure up in Sheridan having gained weight & color his left leg looking rather worse, his mishap on Hallet's in the spring of 2008 being one of the more insane accidents I knew of personally.
Sunday my bitch was berserk from her heat so off we went for a 40 minute trail/road run the day warming upon us. That afternoon Zack avec Ryan appeared for a cave session with Lucky Dube and Bob boomin' in the background. My feet are a ruin so I climbed without shoes: the bigger the moves the better. I had a good session until Zack suddenly decided to try and swap-out his wasted Monsters for my set hanging there, my set a gift from the lovely Betta Gobbi some years back.
Dude, do I LOOK bigger than you?
Autumn thus begins the horned God ascendent Goddess descendent, I am eyeing a massive patch of mint out back mint jelly in mind a present for Susanne when she prances of thge plane in a week.
In August we drove through Yellowstone, spent a few nights there. One morning I got up after coffee I crossed under the road stepping out onto a river bottom under brooding mountains. The river was low only small fish about soon I noticed the umber mass of a solitary bull bison in recline along a bend to the south. Earlier I had walked by his dust wallow, his fresh fecal splatter, his piss stains. These lone bulls dot the primeval landscape within the park ousted from the herd they live out their days in solitude munching grass, lolling in the dust, dosing, just taking it all in until a pack of wolves happens by, wolves who by hard-wiring have again learned to stalk, harry, then bring down that one-ton bison supermarket extravaganza.
End of days...
I see something in that old bull, something in empathy. There are always challenges, the oldest bull would seem the most comely of opportunities for the upstart, yes? Randy Couture might prove otherwise though even he has of late taken his share of lumps. So is this the path to enlightenment?
I see today in the UK times that we will lose now in Afghanistan, shades of Vietnam the fall of which I watched with incredulity by black and white TV in 1975. Rome had such far-flung wars most of which she eventually lost going bankrupt both financially and morally in the process, the analogy being obvious.
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