good morning jack

n o v e m b e r   

f o r e s t    r a p i d s

r u r a l    r o u t e

e d d l e m a n' s    p o n d

h a v e    w e    a    p r o b l e m ?

w e l c o m e    t o    b e t t e r    t i m e s

a n d    a    g o o s e    n a m e d    s n u g g l e s

L o b l o l l y' s    c a s t l e

c a r d i n a l 

c r a n e    f l y


how improbable a form

why does it need such long legs to make a living?

it flies like a winged daddy long legs

not like our elusive housefly

shrewdly aerobatic

benefiting from a gyroscope on a balance beam

- that white ball on a slender stalk

you see behind the front wing

sending all this top gun sort of stuff

to a brain the size of a fleck of pepper

behold miniaturization

bare bones analytics

rational thought 

l e a f     d e c a y

f o u n t a i n


take the smallest known instance of time

repeatedly reduce its size by half until

you arrive at the precise present

the instant dividing what has yet to happen

from what has already occurred


nothing exists outside this infinitely small

instance of now

except for memory residing in consciousness

and in imaginings outside time

w i n d o w 

m e t a l

c e m e n t

c o l o r s

don't exist except in consciousness

there is no sound in reality

other than what the mind provides

all your senses are interpretations

whose accuracy you rely on

to stay alive


your mind necessarily editorializes - 

a loud sound startles

the brain calling for your undivided attention

a soft voice soothes

the brain lowers its alert to you

you who are separate but reliant as one

of a mind within a particular brain

consciousness at home in its vessel 

love
dad

©  Tom Taylor

coldValentine

good morning jessicca

k i c k b a l l   

love
dad

©  Tom Taylor

coldValentine

good morning jeremy

h a l l o w e e n   

f e e l i n g s     a r e     w h a t 

w e     s e e     a s     i n s t i n c t 

i n     o t h e r     a n i m a l s

love
dad

©  Tom Taylor

coldValentine

good morning justin

m u r r e y' s     m i l l 

A dam provides this mill a near continuous

supply of energy to power its waterwheel.

Long ago people discovered they could use gravity,

water falling onto paddles, to turn heavy stone

and grind grain into flour, like a windmill.

Imagine a waterwheel big enough to power Las Vegas.

You'd need a dam about seven hundred feet tall

then fill it near full with the Colorado River.

Now turn the water wheel on its side and

encase this idea into a high-tech turbine.

Open the tap and provide a high voltage

extension cord to turn night into day

on the Strip.  We're grinding out neon.

A falling object delivers energy.

An apple bounces off Isaac Newton's head.

What's it to you, right?

Imagine the power of ten oxen turning 

your millstone, not just one... twenty-four hours a day.

Continuous power you don't have to feed and baby.

Cause its water, water everywhere

ready for more than drink. 

The physical realm in rustic garb.

All things hard we call solids, 

free-flowing water is liquid and

our ever present atmosphere is a gas.

The molecular phases of Earth.

Appearing just above the lip of the dam

are trees.  They represent the remarkable

molecular state of persistent, self-directed animation.

We call each instance of this phenomenon a cell.

Spillway with clinging moss.

Spillway with aesthetics.

Consciousness of purpose beyond its expiration date.

Everything about this wasp has a purpose

involving survival here on Earth.

There's the familiar hardened shell to protect

the animal's nutrient distribution system 

and various resource processing centers.

We've got legs and wings as a means of 

getting about.  You see the big eyes and antennae.

All the senses are here, letting the brain know

the nature of its existence.  Picture a mind,

root ball size of a nose hair, 

having to make sense of a flood of

on / off type neural impulses.

These specialized nerve cells together

analyze this streaming jumble of zeros and ones

and delivers to a physically derived consciousness -

you - the panorama known as life in the physical realm.

Summer is gone for the wasp.  

Tree living on flat rock with roots grasping,

probing for an opening to nutrients found mostly in soil.

Trees at Baker Creek competing for prime real estate -

the sun-drenched highlands of the upper canopy.

Think of each trunk as a wildcatter's pillar 

drilling skyward for energy gold.

Down among the shaded plants

you're likely to succumb to

the appetite of a roaming deer.

Fungus.

Athlete's Foot on a Tree.

Menu item found at four star restaurants.

This fungus has re-engineered plant tissue

into a nursery housing its next generation.

However robbers are afoot.  

They've penetrated the walls and are

currently feasting on fungal young.

No remorse.  Just add a tad of salt

and keep the yolks runny.

Time to stuff that drafty old twig nest with dead leaves.

Cold weather in the offing.

Florida snowbirds not.

Unless the pond freezes over 

this klatch will likely winter 

in their home town range.

Great Blue Heron presiding.

love
dad

©  Tom Taylor

coldValentine