Karinaland River

  Ode to Squirrel Well,  I have mentioned my squirrel acrobats quite a bit in this   Karinaland River   over the past two and half years . With admiration, exhilaration, and annoyance, all of it. Here finally an ode to them, now that there are less residing in my Live Oak kingdom. The other day, the young hawks started whistling, claiming their territories again. Very rarely have I tried to photograph squirrels, realizing my lack of talent and patience for it. Too easily I get mesmerized, following the little creatures’ fast movements with my naked eye, ooh-ing and aah-ing, laughing, talking back to their chatter, at times chasing them with a broom. In the past I used to complain about the hordes of endless big fat squirrels, declaring them my nemesis as they “steal” all the plums or apples before they can ripen. This habit of taking a bite and then dropping the fruit, so annoying. What a waste. At times I have fantasized about a slingshot or bb-gun to deter them, but that’s just sill

  Flowing The rain this weekend a feast for moss to grow and exalt in furry green splendor. The calendar year still so tentative – the season waiting for the Lunar New Year’s new moon which will beckon things to start unfolding. New and virgin, even though the Future is pressing itself insidiously back into the Past with impressive insistence, herausfordernd  : “Come on, let yourself be known – how can we move on without out your precise sensory knowledge stitched into our vision?”     Let me be the River On the rare occasion, when our human visage, or face, is visiting Earth, we become silver rivulets, roaming snakes – meandering across the globe, gathering continents, traversing oceans – we shapeshift  into a streaming rippling gushing winding network only to be listened to… carelessly, randomly… Or caringly… awaiting…   Let me be the River of Tears  begs the Eye  as the face sinks gently down to Earth  lamenting the loss of limitless light    Let me be the River of Breath  whispers

  When We Walk by Our Neighbors     Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. ’s Birthday is a good day to keep American poverty in mind. On Wednesday, January 10, Rose Aguilar interviewed Kevin Adler (on KALW’s  Your Call ) the founder of  Miracles Messages , as well as  Terro, Miracle Money and Miracle Friend . The organization offers family reunification services, a phone buddy program, and basic income pilots for people experiencing homelessness. It was good to hear first-hand about a new approach to this ongoing, increasing, and heartbreaking societal “problem.” To listen to the inspiring interview, click the link below. For example, via a simple effort on social media, after 12 years of being “missing,” an unhoused man is helped by old friends and family. This approach originates from the one question Kevin kept asking the unhoused individuals he met on the streets as he  connected : “Who knows about your situation?” NOBODY, was the answer every time.  A wonderful question – the same reply is

  Today   These days, or let’s say, Today – a day like any other or perhaps not – a day like none,  a day that promises nothing much else but life:      my feet ready to take a step, one in front of the other, feeling my weight which is pinning me down to middle of earth, kindly anchoring me in root kingdom, spiraling me into musky darkness, till something Unknown bubbles up from below, informing me of secrets yet to be deciphered – steps yet to be taken, breaths to be breathed, stories yet to be lived, mushrooms to be found, music yet to be memorized, faces to be delighted by… lucid leaps to be dared…     I am not in a hurry, others are traveling day and night following star constellations, carrying gifts with them – I, too, carry my gifts, in form of tiny pebbles and seeds which will guide me back home, will let the flowers bloom again, give spice to my food, and will tickle smiles into the eyes of countless strangers… offering them freely, I am not in a hurry…     across the street