The other day, without thinking, I put a bulb of garlic on the fence meaning to bring it in later. An opportune crow swooped down and took it. Must have needed it for a recipe.
Crows are smart that way, as I supposed another crow found nuts and they put together a decent pesto. Or maybe it didn’t go exactly like that.
The crows in our neighborhood sit in the towering pine trees and enjoy the fruits of their mischievous thievery. They are a loud bunch, and when there is food they gather in mass. They eat, they sing and have a rambunctious good time. They are sloppy and drop food into the yard.
Luna, our Jack Russel, lingered in the yard a little longer this morning. This usually is a harbinger of a murder of crows fallout.
She just jumped on my lap and her breath had a subtle hint of garlic.
Let me put this right up front, I am not a relationship specialist or I have any claim be any good at it. However this little simple cartoon says a lot. If we go through life without changing life changes around us and we continue our backwards migration to being a useless dinosaur.
There is nothing inherently wrong what pining for the good all days. Yearning for the good old days is saying I am not capable of changing and I want things to be the way they used to be. We see this in people who refuse to visit other countries, adopt other cultures or even think that another way of life or some flavor Of it is even possible.
I have a hard time listening to the same music over and over again. My brain synapses seek change and I really want to hear something new. Music from your past, and I’m not discounting that it’s really really good, uses other synapses tied to memories different, yet related that music. Then again I guess at the beauty and music and the memories that it holds.
I digress, and I’m OK with that I think about classical music. There is very little new classical music being written every single day. And again we listen to it with a brand new set of ears every single day. That’s not always change in the end but our ability to see things in new and different ways.
A few years back I went to a baseball game with my dad, my little sister her husband and my wife. It was a warm summer evening in Hillsboro Oregon. It was your typical minor-league game On a quite enjoyable evening .
In about the third inning, my dad announced he was going to get a hotdog. If you read between the lines, probably searching out a secret place to smoke a cigarette. He did have a history, of getting lost on his little adventures.
He was gone for a short time, and suddenly a player hit a screaming foul ball headed towards our direction. He caught all of it and it came right towards us. I had my back turned and turned and watched the ballsmash into the middle of the seat where my dad was once sitting.
It happened really fast.
A few minutes later, my dad came back to his seat, with mustard on his hands, and asked what the big indentation was in the middle of the seat.
What we think about every single day is not a conscious decision. Things pop in our mind both pleasant and unpleasant. And right now I’d like to concentrate on the pleasant. It is quite amazing what actually pops in your mind as we have very little control over that. It just happens. And the process fascinates me.
Memories occur when specific groups of neurons are reactivated. In the brain, any stimulus results in a particular pattern of neuronal activity—certain neurons become active in more or less a particular sequence. … In other words, recalling a memory involves re-activating a particular group of neurons
That’s all fine and dandy and we don’t really control that.
And I can see why many people end up in counseling. Our past has a lot to do with our current every day waking life. And I take it as a privilege to write this as I don’t have anything that’s too traumatic or maybe I don’t dwell on it at all that often.
I have this reoccurring daydream that pops in my head often. It’s a nice place but not spectacular. It’s the top of fire lane one in the middle of Forest Park. Or maybe it is spectacularI’ve been there thousands of times either running walking and it’s generally fairly pleasant. It sits at the top of a really difficult hill when running. But for some reason it pops in my mind all the time. That is where I go on a little mental vacation. I would not describe that as my happy place or maybe I would. But it just pops in my mind all the time.
I also noticed similar places or times do as well. The biggest correlation I can find, and it’s all armchair conjecture, is that my mind goes back to a place that was uncomplicated.
I probably learned nothing here, and the reader is probably no richer for reading this. I just stood on the back porch, as an unexpected gentle rain shower washed over me. It was calm, beautiful in a subtle way. Who knows it could be a memory that pops in my mind in the future.
There’s nothing really to learn here, no inspirational thoughts rather a quiet little introspection of how a mind works. It is nice to look at once in a while.
