The subject of the picture I’ve used for today’s header image isn’t the Ozarkansas sky, believe it or not. It isn’t the odd collection of fixtures attached to the cabin’s northwest corner, either.
What you’re looking at is a tighter crop of this photo:
To explain, I’ll have to rewind a few hours. I was outside with the Heeler around 4am and happened to look up toward the power line that runs from the transformer to the meter pole. I noticed that light from the fixture by the front door was reflecting off of something else, but I’d have to wait ’til after daybreak to confirm my suspicion.
That’s what I did. And, as it turns out, I was right.
This (highlighted by the red arrow in the image below) is what I thought I’d find:
Pre-dawn, the porch light — yeah, I call it that even though I don’t have an actual porch — had been glinting off of a filament spun by yet another of The Mountain’s resident orbweaver spiders. The thread was absurdly long, stretching from near the ridge of the cabin roof, over the driveway, to an air conditioner on top of the camper.
In the light of day, I saw not only the web but its architect:
Don’t ask me how a small wingless creature can construct something like that in mid-air, over ten feet off the ground and spanning 60 feet or more. For me, fascination is enough.
It’s a marvel. A wonder. Discovery is what happens when I open my eyes and actively notice the world around me.
Here’s another how-to infographic from The Art of Manliness:
If you judge it fanciful, nothing but cloak-and-dagger nonsense, I urge you to reconsider — there will come a day when you’ll find this information useful. I can promise you that.
(Dont forget, I’m the guy who put his phone in a Faraday bag during the FEMA EAS “test” two years ago. Wise up.)
Our regular bi-weekly run for provisions would fall on the weekend, either Saturday or Sunday. With the potential for heavy weather arriving later today, yesterday I had a decision to make.
Wait ’til Sunday? Postpone ’til next week? Or do it early today before the storms are forecast to hit?
I’m not one to procrastinate. And I figured that a weather-influenced Saturday morning would be busy as hell at the curbside-pickup corral. So with Smudge riding shotgun, I grabbed groceries early yesterday morning.
The short drive to Flippin was wonderful (pictured).
Less than a minute after I’d parked at Walmart, the young Louisianan who usually brings out my orders emerged from the store and made a beeline for the SilverSilverado. I smiled — the only way that could’ve happened is if it was intentional.
He told me that he had big news, but it meant that I might not see him very often at curbside pickup. Next week he starts a new job at Ranger Boats, just up the road from Walmart, doing gelcoat. It didn’t surprise me to learn that one of his curbside customers had seen his work ethic and basically recruited him right there in the parking lot.
I’m thrilled for the kid, obviously. He’ll still be at Walmart part-time, working after his shifts at Ranger whenever he can.
The coolest thing? He thought enough of me to want to tell me personally. I took it as a compliment.
Now, about that weather.
I visited the forecast maps yesterday to see if the SPC’s predictions had changed. They had, expanding the “slight” (15%) risk east and south. Arkansas remained entirely within the big yellow blob.
I also found a composite map generated by the NWS that shed more light on what we might see here. It charts areas with significant probabilities for “Rain/Thunderstorms,” “Heavy Rain/Flash Flooding” and “Severe Thunderstorms.”
Straddling the Missouri/Arkansas border is an egg-shaped area where all three of those threats overlap. The Mountain is smack-dab in the middle of it.
Beginning mid-afternoon today, we might have ourselves quite a time.
Yesterday, I discovered Eva Cassidy.
It’s been 29 years since she fell to cancer at age 33, her breathtaking talent still unknown to all but a few. Quite by accident, I stumbled onto her performance of “Over the Rainbow,” recorded in 1996 during what would be her final public appearance.
Then I listened to her cover of “Fields of Gold.”
And that broke me right down.
I don’t remember the last time I reacted that way to a piece of music. It’s a beautiful song, of course. The lyrics are poignant. Eva’s voice is sublime and her acoustic guitar is masterful, perfect.
But together it struck me with such force that I struggled to make sense of it.
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
I gave myself time to come to an understanding of that moment. Eventually, it revealed itself.
It occurred to me that I’ve reached a point of needing to strip away what doesn’t matter anymore and uncover what’s essential — peeling off decades upon decades that buried me, or tried to.
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
That digging leaves the bare foundation of who I am.
I can’t help but be a product of the years and experiences. I regret nothing. I trade nothing away. But now I stand on who I truly am, as I am.
And that’s a very good place.
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As we lie in fields of gold
All in a song.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable