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December 2013

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As soon as I stand up out of my car, and take a few steps into the lush green grass, the tension instantaneously releases from my neck, runs down my body, and drips onto ground. After I take off my shoes and socks—I put each sock inside its respective shoe, and tie the shoes together to make them easily portable—and spend some time meandering through the hills of the park, the fetters of the working day are completely struck from my mind. Then, I find a nice shady spot, and lay down to stretch, like a cat.

But, sometimes I get really disturbed when other people impede upon my territory. For instance, the other day a whole herd of high school runners intersected directly through my immediate area. I swear to God, I was really upset. But after they passed over a few hills, and faded from sight, I took a few deep breathes, and calmed myself. I laid back down from my position of alert agitation, and sunk into the damp, cool grass. Sometimes, I take off my shirt to get some sun. Boy, I tell you what, you really have to be cognizant of your surroundings when you do that! At any moment, a whole group of teenage cheerleaders might just jog right by you, in one long line, and gawk and giggle at your hairy chest and back.

Usually, I put my shirt on, and use a little walk-way bridge to cross a busy road, so that I can access the other side of the park. At the top of the walk-way, I like to stop, and gaze at the cars passing on the road, underneath. I watch the faces glide by, and most of the time they don’t even see me! They don’t even look up from the road! I get to glimpse into the lives of thousands of people, and they don’t even realize it! Boy, I really enjoy that.

So I tear myself away from my observances of the river of unfamiliar faces, walk a bit further into the park, and nestle into a comfortable position at the top of a bleacher overlooking a small baseball field. I like to lay there and soak up the sun; it’s so nice. The resplendent sun soaks the entire landscape in heady golden light. The green of the grass and leaves are made vibrant and glowing by the blanket of warm light. There are some stretches I do up there on the bleacher; and sometimes, I read for a while. If I get tired of the hard, cold bleacher, I find a nice tree to nuzzle against, and watch the tiny insects march up and down the bark. Most of the time, I will hug and kiss and embrace the tree. I feel and fondle and stroke and squeeze its rough skin—such a large and magnificent organism deserves as much affection as I can give!

Down by the stream, there are lots of neat things—but first of all, you must understand: the stream is actually a living thing. It writhes, it pours, it gushes, it flows; and the land accepts the stream—is nourished by the stream. Now, let me describe to you the cozy little spot down by the stream. There are rocks in the stream. The water pets the rocks: it curls around them and caresses them. Lots of rocks are on the sides of the stream too! Oh my God, it’s such a nice place. I really love it there. The only negative aspect, is if it’s too damp, the bugs come out and absolutely eat you alive; even though I put on tons of bug spray, the bugs still get me. Quite annoying. In order to spite the annoying bugs, I take off my shirt and wave it madly in the air. I yell out, “Get away, you damn bugs—“ and continue to wave my shirt desperately through the air. And sometimes there are these clouds of pesky gnats that get in my eyes and fly into my mouth and buzz at my ears when I walk through them. No matter how much you swat, the streams of their fragile, floating bodies are endless.