May 5th, 2009

abstract butterfly

Speculative Fiction

Queen Anne's Lace at Duck Creek

What if there were four seasons, and one of them was called "Spring"?

What if odd colorful things called flowers suddenly appeared in abandoned fields, forgotten creekways, and even between the sheets of cracked concrete?

What if cool drizzle and warm air blended, and birds sang and butterflies fluttered?

Nobody would believe in it. They know that it's always winter. Winter is all they remember.

But what if everything was green, and hope peeked out from the understory?
abstract butterfly

duck creek

Rushing Water, Duck Creek Culvert

Time flows by as if it left the creek, plunged through the culvert, and came out in torrents on the other side.
We watched an episode of the police procedural "without a trace" in which every twist proved slightly more unsettling than the prior twist. I believe more television should be filled with twists of happy news.
The recent Disney nature movie, of which I approved, made me think that the "G" rating is the new untouchable taboo. I hope more films and ideas get rated some odd technicolor "G", and trail off into a distant sunrise, like orange pixie dust in a purple pixie stick.

What is that tiny finch-like bird I see in the park but cannot identify? That's the science of living--questions like this. Birdsong and a meadowlark on the wing, and water flowing way too fast through concrete culverts, and seeing the movie show star quality of a simple city greenbelt park.