Mad Max

Existence is magic, an exhilarating
elixir of excitement for little Max. And
nature was exceedingly generous in
gifting the little fellow with form and
temperament, his disposition irresistibly
enthusiastic in a cuddly, curly-haired coat
his snout an arousal of exuberant joy
as he eyes his playmate-of-the-moment
and mounts a challenge to race madly
about the woods, in and around trees
escaping contact burrowing into a vast
generosity of autumn foliage fallen on
the forest floor, his apricot-toned curls
disappearing within the yellowed and
crisply-curled leaves, as he dares the 
others to dive right in and swim with 
him through the frothy ocean of fall. 
His pleasure at being himself, a loved
companion and imp at one and the same
time, endearing at whimsical depth in
the conceit of the centre of the universe
for what else is there for a little dog
who has reached the milestone year
of life dedicated to the moment each 
invitation he accepts, an ambassador 
of leisure and unimaginable happiness.

Memory

Buried deep and seldom thought of
nestled far in the recesses of memory
to be evoked on rare occasions when 
a fragrance arouses the sense of recall
and you become once more the one
that can never be recaptured in this
brief lifetime, a child for whom comfort
and security reflect the sensations of
familiar taste and smells recalling trust
and reliance on the guidance of your
parents' instinctual response to your
needs, and what could be more needful
to a child than to inhale a mother's
careful and fastidious preparations in
her kitchen to feed her family long
acquainted with the menu and relishing
its appearance, its taste, its companionship
and above all the distinct, unforgettable
odours of its constituents melding into
the promise of contentment and the
bond holding fast. From youth to old
age and a sudden flood of memory piqued
with that complex and familiar fragrance
your grandchildren now know and you
acknowledge timeless through the years.

 

The Here And Now

Awe and incredulity. For how can
the human mind despite its elasticity
and willingness to devour a vast multitude
of facts and data, eager to consume new
scientific findings possibly digest such
infinitely vast numbers, concepts and
visualizations of a time before time
in the vastness of the universe when
the massively heated planet we call our
home boiling in its liquid metallic and
gaseous state of becoming from its
collision creation beginning to host the
most primitive of life forms, existing
merely to exist, a cauldron of experiment
where evolution speaks in volumes of
billions of years to finally produce the
creatures that we are, populating a space
and a minuscule place in the vastness of
time and an endless universe, using our
creative intelligence to probe our very
existence while the purpose of it all
simply eludes understanding as we
impute what we perceive as mysterious
and unknowable to the giant hand of a
creator tenderly gathering gases and
chemicals to formulate the here and now.

Harvest

The wildflowers in their seasons
bloomed on the forest floor in bright
sparks of colour among the greens of the
mixed forest of deciduous and conifers
an exhalation of nature's very special
exhibition in parading her diverse
and clever landscaping the envy of
all those who fancy themselves capable
of emulation in tending gardens of their
own. The final season's arrival sees 
the transformation of flowers into seed
heads meant to be carried hither and yon
by birds and animals in their innocence
transferring burrs and replanting their
seeds elsewhere, just as nature intended.
And autumn of course is also harvest
time when not only furred creatures of
the woods collect the edible fuel to carry
them over winter into spring but so do
domesticated companions awaiting a
share at berry-picking time and when
feral apples fall on woodland trails.

Where's The Pooch?

It's an innocent enough question. Coming
across the large shambling man instantly
jogged your memory of a young poodle mix
exuberantly energetic and full of fun, a lovely
apricot colour and half the size of a standard
since it was bred from a poodle with a Lab
a most felicitous pairing that resulted in an
animal with a lovely conformation and an 
even more gracious temperament with all 
the known intelligence of the former breed 
and the friendliness of the latter. She was a 
delight. 'Was' is the operative here as her 
former companion shook his head and
simply said 'gone', to your great shock. 
She couldn't have been more than . . . 
'four years old', he supplied, nodding. And 
you stated your very sincere sympathy
felt like kicking yourself for even asking 
of her presence, but in fact the elderly man 
whom you hadn't seen all that often, was 
gratified that you'd remembered and
wanted to talk, and talk, and talk. About 
his loss and coping, and the unexpectedness 
of it all. And so, you listened, carefully 
as is your wont while commiserating
because you have your very own experience
 of the delight inherent in that special 
companionship and the emotional starkness 
that strikes when it is forever vanished.

 

The Wisdom of Age

Then it hits you, the stunning realization
that your mind is a work in progress; in
itself a reality you are no stranger to
having accompanied your mind through
a lifetime of exposure to world events
both great and monstrous and as an avid
reader of news and literature of every
stripe you've stuffed your mind with
massive amounts of intelligence, some
challenging that nomenclature, but for
the most part the recipient of reams of
information and proxy experiences all
of which have formed your impressions
of those sharing the globe with your
singular self. No, it is not those reliable
sources, companions throughout your
life that you suddenly understand have
had a magnitude of knowledge-sourcing
enabling you to dredge up from deep
within recalled learning episodes, but
through your children from the time they
exercised the prerogatives of sentience to
the present and even then the picture is
not complete, for in step their children to
guide you anew through the intricacies of
another knowledge base whose particulars
they casually impart, re-framing the wisdom
attributed by custom to the wrinkled elderly.

Enduring Love

Manifestly there is enduring durability
in the symbiosis of mutual need within
which lies gratification in the realization
that security and enjoyment, stability
and trust seated deep within mutual love
mark out the covenant the fortunate take
comfort in. Although love itself may be
mysterious there is no mystery in love
and its rewards. Extending to another the
divine spark of one soul reaching out to
another to find its binary destiny and the
purpose of life, those who are fortunate
make that discovery and cherish their
fortune, while others struggle, oblivious
that caring for another is paramount in
placing oneself as a complement to the
other. A natural response to some but
difficult to attain for those who see 
their needs superior unwilling to forego
or diminish that drive to conquer all
for in so doing they stifle opportunity.
Nature's formula is straightforward
and simple enough: loving oneself too
fervently then leaves too little to share.