mulch

good morning, sunshine.
did i just get beat up by 18" of notebook filler?
what?
no way, ninjas.
but that's an almost literal translation of what has transpired;
half a yard of loose leaves remain uncollected.
oh, c'mon.
hahahahaaa.
am i actually pushin' 200 years old?
i might, secretly, at the very least be close to 180.
what is it makes me suspect that i've forgotten my true age?
is it that i'm so very wise beyond my apparent years?
nice try.
but let's not get too mean-spirited about metaphysical matters.
the answer is blowin' on a more material wind, my ninjas.
am i sore all over?
from raking?
oh yes, indeed i am.
somebody call the manly police,
i am guilty of committing crimes against all things testosterone-related.
especially 'nads.
i break those jawns on everybody....
mental gymnastics and mindbending metaphoric athleticism
aren't actual exercise.
thinking doesn't really substitute direct actions.
maybe i should've stretched first.
first-person participation doesn't always win the award, y'heard?
i payed close attention to the flippy-floppy flora firma-flotsam.
y'know,
being mindful of my movement in these moments-
i should've maybe tried to care about doing chores, too.
but it's such a chore...
so it should come as little or no surprise that i'm also pretty sure
i rolled a mountain of moldy manure in with the moulding maples.
i doo-doo that doggie doo-doo buttery sh!t, too.
just a little leaf-pile leaping lesson to be learned;
look before you do, an' that.
in my meandering march around the manor,
what with my half-a-mindful microscope working on capturing any latent hottness,
i did discover a stump full of so-so-fresh fungi:

i didn't know we had these purple hazy, hostile-weather blossoms up here.
they're pretty cool, though.
i'm not sure if they are edible.
or more accurately, digestible,
(i'll bet i can fit 'em in my mouth, after all)
and my mushrom books say they're either delicious,
or deadly.

decaying deciduous deadwood dirt does not deal delicately with deceptive detritus dots.
so i guess i'm not risking it.
fortune favors the bold,
but discretion is the better part of valor.
plus,
who the hell willingly tries to catch a case of hot 'rrhea?
i may possibly be an abstract conceptual A-hole,
but i don't think i need to gasket the hole off the more literal one.

i have to tell ya'll;
i get pretty happy about stuff like this.
nature doesn't care if you rake or not.
in fact,
she probably prefers you don't.
sounds like my kind of lady.

these goobieblops trail away a few feet from ground zero, too.

absolutely awesome.

spore fruits.

dopeness.

there's a series of checks and balances here, for sure.

the woodsliness makes leaves.

which is rad up until they fall off.

that's not so goodsly.

but,

those same sucky slices of used-up photosynthesizing

make it possible for my most favoritest treats.

i know.

it's a pretty foolproof system.

bitters, sweets, and all the flavors in-between.

this natural world is happening all around me.

really hard.

even as worn-out as i am,

even with the wet leafy leavin's stuck to the poop stuck to my shoes,

even with the same amount of labor still left to do,

i am grateful for the time i have been given;

never quiet, never soft.....