Saturday, July 6, 2013

A Hobbit And His Dog

The barricade across the path into the pinewood was down, broken not unbolted, as though someone had made a dash for the forest in a desperate attempt at escape. Escape from what I wondered? Never mind, Cheyenne was determined to press on into the black forest of Mirkwood.
The homeless who come down for the winter like to camp out here, but luckily for Cheyenne the are a disorganized bunch and leave enough smells behind to keep her happy exploring their abandoned winter residences. She leads me quite the zig zag walk in her effort to leave no plastic bag unturned.
The more permanent residents of Big Pine come and go too, much to the delight of my dog.
They go, and the leave behind the sum of their lives in a pile of rubble awaiting transport to the dump. And they are Gone.
A short sale and a pile of moving boxes under a tarp. Then they are Gone.
It's the result, among ordinary people of the bank machinations that culminated in the crash of 2008. And from that crash the taxpayers have been paying through the nose to try to make the fraudulent banks whole. In more important news I hear Kim Kardashian's child will go by the name of North West. There are days when I devoutly hope these are The End Times. Luckily we still have Beauty.
I saw the palm tree shadow projected on the trailer like a silent movie, and it was silent because that trailer too will be unoccupied I guess till winter.
Cheyenne led me through the parking lot of the church where I liked the Pauline admonition to park politely. I guess road rage infects church goers too. Let your gentleness be evident to all... Wood elves keep your cool was the message.
I can't make up my mind which of us is the Hobbit and which is Gandalf the leader. She sits, I stand and wait. As one does.
This is either a lawn mower or dinner. I figured it was just a trespasser:
I think it's been a good year for Key deer, they are everywhere and to my untutored eye they look plump and sleek. There have been years when they were tottering around starving on their feet and the admonitions not to feed them were everywhere in the news. Darwinian selection they called it. This year even the mangoes are plump and sleek.
My mango tree is not quite so bountiful, I think it is too well shaded, but my dog on the other hand is plump and somewhat sleek.
Hobbits aren't supposed to be sleek, they were dreamed up before anyone realised that Paris was a person and not a place. Those were the good old days when women had curves and corporations knew their place.