Joe ~ May 11

 

Windshield Paradise

 

So, it’s 9:42 on Saturday morning and I’m sitting in the park and it is indeed a glorious time. I am not writing my usual last minute entry into this Mad Mazurka that keeps me pumping away through the weeds of life. My computer rests on my lap against the steering wheel of my Subaru and which has just blown the horn and startled the hell out of me. The temperature is a lovely 57 degrees and the sky is a brilliant blue with wisps of clouds and contrails feathering through the stratosphere. Before me lies the marsh that is at high tide and is inhabited solely by pair of swans. They appear to be headless as they duck down to the muddy bottom to seek out their morning meal. The barn swallows have appeared and are scurrying about capturing their share of midges and mosquitoes to replenish their body weight. A tremendous amount of insects to ingest. If I could eat three times my weight every day I would surely explode or learn to fly. Maybe that’s what evolution is all about. However, in my case I must conquer that need to eat too much. Food has been my drug of choice for most of my existence. Like any other substance, if abused, can be destructive and mess up what could have been a happier life. In any case, I’’m on a good and progressive path toward making changes to get myself to a better place. 

As I sit here tapping away on the keys of my computer I wonder why I’ve never ventured beyond my comfort zone to experience first hand the wonderful environment that’s available nearly all the time. The breeze is lovely and the bird watchers have arrived …. And I have just blown my horn again and my heart has increased its rhythm by about 30 beats. Even that is a gift. My endocrine system can always use a good kick in the arse. Where was I? Oh, yeah…the birdwatchers…they are in heaven…as I sit here more and more ducks, robins, egrets and gulls are gathering and putting on a show for the interested observers. The traffic on the far turnpike is light and the whir of the tires on the pavement is much less than usual. The outgoing flights from Newark Liberty power up their engines as they achieve altitude interspersed by seconds, one after the other. The six car NJ Transit train, double deckers, slowly crosses the the border of the park on it’s way to the terminal in Hoboken.  The tall buildings of Manhattan beckons off in the distance. From where I sit they are framed in the leafy bows of the sycamore trees surrounding the water and the birds are criss crossing not realizing the masterpiece they are taking part in.

On the occasion of my seventieth birthday my son will pick me up within the hour and whisk me into the metropolis and meet up with my daughter and they will then treat me to a mysterious surprise. I cannot fathom what they have in store for me. Little do they know that they have already in myriad ways given me my present. Just being who they are. Invaluable!!! So as I prepare to end this romp of beauty and splendor I will quash the evil demon deep inside my head that wants to sabotage this blissful day and say …get thee behind me, you boogeyman, you, and allow me to relish the view from my windshield paradise