« Colorado Wildfires | Main | Canon Camera Updates »

September 15, 2015

The Spots Fade

Now, as Summer pulls away, the spots of the fawns and the calves fade. The bull elk drive their racks into the mud, screaming insanely in the dying light.

The cormorants, filled with fish, dry their wings hesitantly in the thin evening light. When their wings are dried, they fly south. No one knows where they go. Only they go.

A Great Blue Heron stalks unseen fish, silently. Moving almost imperceptibly. Searching for that last evening fish.

The sun glows red, shrouded in California's wildfire smog.

The heron gives up and scavenges a dead rotting fish from the lake shore.

In the spring, it rained and flooded the creeks. Erased the driveways and cracked the roads.

But now, the land has dried and the earth has cracked.

A girl walks down the hall carrying her face before hero n a stick. Forehead the size of a drive-in movie screen. She looks at me as my eyes search the floor for nothing.

No one dies and no one lives. Everyone just is.

The sun licks the sky and says, "I am tired. I want to die. I need to go home now."

"Where will you?" asks the moon. "You have nowhere to run. This is where you belong.'

"No," said the sun. "I don't want to be here any more. The summer has made me tired. I need to go home."

The sun looked weak, and tired. Leaning on the mountains at twilight.

The candles looked around and said "Let him go. It is fine. It is the way. Now is time for him to rest."

I'm blowing through the canyons. Making up for lost time. Every day after work, I race into the canyons. Maybe Jonathan will go with me. Maybe I will ride alone. Nothing matters any more. Every day is shorter now.

Nothing sticks any more. Nothing stays. Everything fades, like flowers in the fall.

In the meadows, a bull that lost a fight walks alone. Half of his rack is gone. A miracle of nature destroyed. No cows to breed with. He stumbles forward, alone in the meadow. A defeated warrior. No cows to call his own.

Overhead, a lone Osprey augers in on the valley's thermals.

No one knows and no one cares. There is this and there is nothing.

Everything bends before it breaks. Such is the way.

I think about the last girl that was up here. How she crawled up my ass and drove me bat shit insane. A man needs a woman like a fish needs a bicycle.

Always, I think, a woman cannot stay at my place very long. It's my cave, and it's hard to imagine how women enter into it to begin with.

Like, you'd think that a collection of rusting military vehicles would keep them away, and for the most part it does. But they do occasionally filter through.

But somehow, they do occasionally appear.

The fall winds strip the golden aspen leaves from the trees, and you want to run into the forest and tape them back up upon the trees. "Here...you dropped this..."

You want the summer to go on forever. But you know that it can't be that way. Winter is on the way. I wonder what Friedrich Nietzsche said about the winter and the fall.

Now, every day after work, I race the bike into the mountains and try to find a road I've not been down before. This was much easier in Colorado Springs. Not so easy in Morrison.

I'm racing up the canyon in the dark going way too fast. Like, if you hit a deer, or evan a raccoon, you're going to be catapulted into the ravine.

I think that, the greatest problem men face, as a gender, is a lack of testosterone.

Last night, this chick gets up and walks away from her table at Willow Creek, and when she passes me, she turns and smiles really big at me, and sort of curtseys even. Just like the "here I am....fuck me" type of message.

But I don't do anything because...well...just because.

Posted by Rob Kiser on September 15, 2015 at 9:08 AM


Post a comment

Remember Me?

(you may use HTML tags for style)