I keep telling myself to start carrying a camera. Often there is something I see that I would love to share with you guys, and I could save a thousand words describing it to you if I just had a camera. Not that I mind, mind you, typing out a thousand words. I mean, I've typed a thousand words three times in this post already.
You know how the sky looks when the sun is just peeking over the horizon and the sky is like molten gold? You know when there are those wispy, white clouds high in the sky but something about the light of the rising sun makes them look dark? You know how, if there's a thin, sparse, gnarly sapling between you and the golden sky it looks black and superimposed like a silhouette cutout of a thin, sparse, gnarly sapling? Do you? Yes? Good. That's what I see through the window of the coffee shop this morning.
Here's what I really want to say today.
Legends have persisted for centuries in earthworm folklore of UFO abductions. "I swear to you guys," says Bill, "we surfaced for just a minute to look at the sunrise and Lenny's telling me about this hot date he had the night before. Then, all of a sudden, there's this high pitched screech and something plummets out of the sky and, when I look over, Lenny's gone!" Officials claim there are rational explanations for the disappearances, but most earthworms believe in visitors from the sky. "I'm telling you," says Bill, "we are not alone."
The insect world is so much more mysterious than ours, you know? It's why their communities are so much more tightly knit. Fear brings communities together. There's nothing within the realm of good ethics that you can do with that fact, but it's true nonetheless.
"They really don't work together very well at all," says the ant narrator of the ant documentary about humans showing on the Ant Discovery Channel. "Still," he says, the camera zooming out and out and out and out until you see the huge New York skyline, "I'd say they're doing okay."
Hello, friends. ¿Mbaechapa?
Later. Love.
P.S. - For those of you who don't speak Guaraní, mbaechapa means, roughly, "How are you?" The common response is "yporá" which means, roughly, "I'm well".
