response to an empty hope

ah, weather. maybe it's my midwestern roots, but it really is fascinating.
anyway, the wellspring of consciousness:

In the springtime for a few week, dc IS awash in pink petals and picnics and lovely breezes.
at the moment, it is all gothic romanticism with windy zoos and crimson trees with emus trying desperately to find the right space to set them free
into the endless wooded park running the length of the city, threatening to swallow it up

or is it the other way around?
...

and the emu was wet, long feathers hanging lower. i went back the next day, and the next, and it was still there at the fence, in a different corner, trying to find...something, i guess. looking at the lions briefly, i felt only guilt, that it was there, sitting atop a fake rock, yawning and making large, resonant noises, and i left to peer at the prairie dogs, instead, who were busy at their own work and didn't inspire the same type of guilt. then the cows, which are a favorite. the small reddish brown one had crazy eyes and the larger black-and-white was the one with the pants, herding the other and responding louder to the small one's lowing. then they both stood at the large doors to the barn and called to the caretaker to let them in for the night, which i'm sure he did, eventually, but first the goats.

walking four goats must be difficult, but he managed to do it.
and i long for someone to see me, to want to know me. the zoo provides at least an initial topic for conversation: the animals as subject. but really, they are objects. and there, again, is the guilt.

but we would leave, and go walk elsewhere, and stare at human animals, instead, over coffee and overhead jazz in a warm, wooden, unfinished cafe.
...

today it is sunny, but ever colder. the trees from the balcony are tops: still green, but more and more patches of red and dark yellows that remind me why i love to wander and that life is beautiful and ever changing.
stupid change.
beautiful, stupid change.

out farther, beyond the forest that never really HAS a "beyond" since it is everywhere and continuous in this city and the surrounding areas is a tall box, opened to the blue or gray sky, and the remains of a castle (actually a fort, but from my window i like castle better) that is now just one large turrot, with a spire, and next to that a 20th century antenna, broadcasting people's voices in 360 directions.
but it is the red that keeps my attention. the red to crimson to auburn. and sometimes i find an incredibly rich tree Farbe, but i am usually driving, so i cannot stop and stare or take a picture that wouldn't do it justice, anyway. so i let that potential memory go, because it will never be as vibrant as the real thing.

and that is the beauty of change: that is it so real it cannot be captured, but (hopefully) always comes back once a year, so you wait for it and anticipate the experience every year you are alive.
and inside, i decorate with the change, and then leave it up all the time, because these are the best colors that correspond with the best season. ha. take that, nature and life. inside, i can have it, create it, the way i like. and thus am productive with "creativity," which may be cheesy or ostentatious and always pretentious, but i like it that way.

it is only me, here
so
so buttons