Jibstay

Monday, July 31, 2006

Vultures & Naked Ladies



She sat alone on a dead tree. The smell of rotten flesh wafted through the air. A couple of bird-watchers told me it was a turkey vulture and the smell was undoubtedly that of a dead sea lion, washed up west of the seal rookery near Carpinteria. The tree and the vulture signified death and the role of the carrion creature to clean bones of flesh.
She rose alone in a clay yard. Unplanted, untended, unwatered, just a plain stalk rising like a steele from the earth. Then, today, she blossomed gloriously pink and frilly. She signified life and beauty and hope.
As I cruise the channels and hear of the bombings and lone gunmen in Seattle, I wonder who is winning, the vultures or the naked ladies? Where is the energy? Picking dead flesh or poking up through hard soil?

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