I was walking up Hampshire St. this morning, on my way to meet my friend Jeff at our collaborative garden plot and do some weeding. We’re in a persistent chill period which will not quit. It’s spring — we need and deserve some balmy sunny days!
I happened across a gnarled and burly redbud tree in someone’s yard. Such picturesque ligneous contortions! I got out my camera and took a few shots. Here’s one of them:
I haven’t taken any shots this spring of redbud trees in bloom. Frankly, I think that the magenta coloration of the blooms is a bad design choice.
I heard a rumble of thunder; I glanced up and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Suddenly a deep, hollow, and angry voice seemed to come from every direction at once. What the hell?
“PUNY MORTAL, YOU DARE TO CRITICIZE MY DESIGN CHOICES? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, LARRY?”
“Well, you have to admit magenta is just a bit garish.”
“I DON’T HAVE TO ADMIT ANYTHING TO THE LIKES OF YOU! YOU’D BETTER WATCH IT — I CAN MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL. ONCE SATAN GETS BACK FROM ROVING ABOUT ON THE EARTH AND WALKING BACK AND FORTH ACROSS IT HE AND I JUST MIGHT MAKE ANOTHER WAGER ABOUT YOU! HOW’D YOU LIKE 2010? WANT ANOTHER YEAR LIKE IT?”
I keep telling myself: “Don’t annoy petulant and vengeful deities!” I may have stepped in it again, but in for a penny, in for a pound.
“No, I don’t want another year like 2010. Why do you keep pickin’ on me, anyway? I’m a good person!”
“YOU ATHEISTS JUST IRK ME! WHY DON’T YOU JUST GET WITH THE PROGRAM AND ABASE YOURSELF?”
“And then there’s the wombat…”
The thunder began rumbling again.
“Well, it kinda looks like it was cobbled together from spare animal parts.”
“I CONSIDER THE WOMBAT TO BE ONE OF MY BEST EFFORTS. YOU’RE JUST DEFICIENT IN TASTE, YOU SHORT-LIVED MORTAL, YOU”
“YOU’VE WASTED ENOUGH OF MY TIME, LARRY. YOU’VE GOTTEN ME PISSED OFF — I MIGHT CAUSE A NATURAL DISASTER, JUST TO VENT. THE NEW MADRID FAULT IS DUE FOR A SHAKING — MAYBE I’LL GIVE IT A TWEAK.”
“No, don’t do it here! Find some Third-world country in which to wreak havoc, please!”
“WELL, OKAY. BUT JUST THIS ONCE! I CAN’T BE TOO INDULGENT TO HUMANS OR THEY GET SPOILED AND COMPLACENT.”
The booming voice began to diminish in volume; I caught this statement before it faded away completely:
“THAT LARRY! QUESTIONING MY TASTE IN FLOWER COLORS AND ANIMAL DESIGN! I’LL HAVE TO HAVE A TALK WITH SATAN ABOUT HIM…”
I really need to stay under the radar with such deities .. they’re worse than the police!