Dear Ambulant,
I am sitting here, today, with my minimalist music, and my picture window: I see dragonflies, cabbage whites, sulphurs, monarchs, tarantula hawks, wasps, and many smaller insects that I do not know by name. They are whizzing by urgently, and I see that the leaves are quite yellow, too. I am always sorry to see the Summer give way to the Fall, although I am fond of Fall, so I don't know why I should feel so. I suspect it is a sort of blanket melancholy in seeing things change, grow, move along. The speed that things slip away at astounds me, but you know all that, you know that is why I am here, trying to tell you a little bit of what I see, as it dashes past, and away from me. My only puny defense against all the endings, all the passings, is to have another plan, another date, another schedule, another something to look forward to.
And what of the record of the days, the events, the times? Do you long to make a mark that records your witnessings? To collect a smidgeon of information and set it down for the future? Here are two very fine projects to contribute to:
I will wander out, now, beyond my picture window, to see the great sunflowers bending low their massive heads, because their bloom is nearly over, and the time of their feeding birds is nigh. In a few weeks, perhaps I will record the sounds of small beaks snapping open the shells....
