It’s that day, that unofficial yet widely recognized day in counterculture which celebrates an herb or a weed that can be so beneficial to society. On this day people gather in parks in places where the freedom to consume the herb and a song by Peter Tosh who said it best might be blaring from little phone speakers. I had my own social protest not in a park but somewhere in the hood. A foreigner in a foreign land in solidarity with others engaged in civil disobedience.
Lately it’s been a bit of a slog getting through the workday. Maybe it’s the chemistry running through the mind maybe it’s just the desire to jump forward until August. It’s a kind of restlessness that permeates the seconds ticking away. So I distract myself and focus on the beauty of a rare sunny day basking in the setting sun. The strangeness of my environment coupled with enhanced sensory perception ease my unsettled mind. I understand why these frustrations surface.
It’s the Monarchs birthday. The pubs are going to stay open longer giving many a chance to imbibe for longer. This situation is unique to countries having hereditary heads of state. Figures that serve a ceremonial role and live in a bowl occasionally leaving to fulfill that role. Their cost and stature tolerated in the name of tradition. That on its own negates all this talk about equality.
It’s been a while so I decided to call the folks. They have such positive spirit lately. Their faith they told me has given them strength and energy and a vibrancy that is not often seen in people their age. They were on their way to get their windshield fixed. My dad swatted at a bee while they were driving cracking the windshield. It was a funny story they related to me. As was the story of their fax machine running out of ink at a time they needed it most.
Sometimes one walks and steps into a hole that is a bit deeper than expected. The struggle to climb out of it is dependent on the size of the hole. It happens sometimes on purpose and sometimes without realizing it. There are strategies employed and techniques developed that serve to elevate the mind out of this funk. It’s this restlessness, restless leg syndrome, a buzzing around a light mesmerized by the brightness. It’s this awareness that helps and the expression of its effects. The countdown is on until the winter solstice later on in the year.
2 thoughts on “1620, 2004…”
Love the photo of the sun and the fence
I thought it would be a nice pic too