I’m sitting at the halfway point on this trail I’m walking. It is familiar and safe. The news feels distinctly less safe, so I refrain from looking at it. I know what war looks like, and I don’t need to ingest repetitive AI slop and propaganda retelling the approved narrative. I’ll sit here bird-watching instead. Nice morning for it.

…Oh, make no mistake, I’d definitely like to see the people of Iran free to govern themselves under a system of government they have chosen for themselves. I earnestly hope our corrupt government’s almost certainly self-serving violence has the effect of also improving the lives of Iranian citizens. Any who survive it, I mean. I admit, I am curious how it seemed necessary to intervene with airstrikes and bombs in Iran, but not Ukraine, Palestine, Rwanda… You get where I’m going with this? We aren’t going to be told truthfully why we are intervening now, in Iran, but not the many other times a nation’s citizens have pleaded for our assistance. I am as certain as I can be that it is about power, and money, and oil. Gross.

I sigh to myself and pull my attention back to the many birds on the marsh and in the oaks dotting the meadow here. Portions of this nature park were once farm or homestead land. The signs of that expose themselves each Spring as flowers begin to bloom. Varieties that don’t grow wild here grow here and there in little pockets, places once planted and cared for by people who are now gone. The flowers remain. Crocuses and daffodils, for now, and I think I spotted paperwhites back up the trail a ways. I am reminded of the battlefield memorial places I have visited. Revolutionary war. Civil war. Mexican-American War. World War I and World War II… I feel both privileged and saddened to have seen so many… You’d think a sentient relatively well developed species could do better… You’d be wrong. At least, you’d be wrong to think homo sapiens would do better. Are you kidding? We can’t even see past campaign lies and political rhetoric to vote wisely for our leaders.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Fuck war. Do better, people. Our survival depends on it

I sit watching the little birds and wondering whether our perception of “intelligence” in living creatures is waaay off, and perhaps we’re just the dumbest fucking things around… too stupid to enjoy our lives and each other, or to appreciate this beautiful planet we live on. Honestly, that does seem pretty stupid, from the perspective of this moment, sitting on a fence rail between marsh and meadow, enjoying the sunshine and the company of little birds. I smile, grateful for this moment, and this place.

I swing my feet and am reminded that my boots are worn out. I found new ones I like during my shopping yesterday, but the local retailers were selling them for more than twice the manufacturer’s price – for a model from 2023! A quick check of their website resulted in a purchase… and some wait time for them to arrive. I have learned the value of waiting.

It’s been a good weekend for self-care, and a recommendation by my Traveling Partner with regard to my pain management seems to have resulted in notable improvement. I feel pretty good. I’ve a few more things I can (maybe should) do for myself this weekend. I’m reaching the point of awkwardness, when I begin to question whether “this is too much”, but that’s just bullshit and baggage. I can let that go.

I sigh happily, feeling the sun warm on my back, and grateful that no bombs are dropping here. I see fellow travelers approaching on the trail. I hop down from the fence rail, feeling merry and light on my feet. It’s a good opportunity to begin again.