I went climbing up the hike.
On the rock that I was on I saw a bird—I slipped and fell, but not too far, because it was wet. It was slippery—the sound made music to my ears/the lust for life, I sang-out, OH SHIT. I sang songs of fear and death, but then the feeling was gone as quick as it had came. I was fine. I had fallen 2 feet, I was standing—I was praying—I was thinking—"NO BIG DEAL".
The lame shit was left behind me, I was on vacation now—time for relaxation now. More hiking. I hiked further—I saw another bird. It was high but I was higher because I was on a ridge looking down over the valley. The bird was low. I saw it go in for a landing, but it made a mistake. It tried to land on a branch but its feet grasped on what remained of only broken twigs. The bird jolted in its startlement in its landing, flapped crazily amongst sticks, lost some feathers. O! You birdy—you Sparrow—Robin—Gull—NO—like a Turkey Vulture—you Falcon, YES you fell. No way to gain traction in the thick + rich density of the good air, when the brambles and the gravity of our earth join to put you down—YOU FELL. I was relaxed. I saw you land and I wondered—you are so much like me. I saw nothing more.
Where did you crash down? I saw you leave but I didn't see you follow—(my eyes didn't follow). I went down to where I thought you were—I descended, it seemed symbolic. It was symbolic. I was being careful on my climb down because I was trying to apply the lessons of yours and my fates. PEOPLE CAN SLIP, THINGS CAN SLIP, ANIMALS CAN HAVE ACCIDENTS TOO—I didn't think that I was having a misunderstanding—I hoped that you were alright. I went down using my hands and feet carefully—(on the moss and rocks, roots, branches).
I found the thorns where you had fallen past. I found your feathers—
I scanned the ground underneath these brambles OF YOURS, WHERE YOU HAD MADE A MISTAKE IN YOUR JUDGMENT. I scanned with my eyes—all the fallen leaves and all the surfaces of this complex, crazy, rocky, dirt, woodland, sloping floor.
I looked and looked and looked and looked—
I looked and looked and I looked and was looking———
All of the information of the light—so much information coming into my eyes—my brain was having a lot of processing to do—I was trying to look beyond my normal ways of looking at forestry, to try to find a way to learn what might have happened to you...
Because I did not see you—I did not understand what could have happened to you. Not much time had elapsed between when I had see you crash into the shadows—to when I had arrived at the approximate place, and the whole time I had been listening for any sound of you, any call of distress, any rustling—and I hadn't heard anything in particular, anything particularly different, discernable, from the surrounding mystery of sounds in the forest—(along the hiking trails)
I didn't hear you at all after I heard your fall and your cry.
I was looking at a big thorny magnum of branches—a magistrate of thorn brambles—magisterial it seemed to my feelings. It felt like that—it was nearby—nearby the leafy floor where I was searchingly—it was a preponderance of thorny bush—NO LEAVES. As I stared into it, it became like a church sensation—a splendor of details and layers—it looked like A Apse— A Cathedral's Loch. The steps of a holy place—into this thorn I stared now.
I shared myself it was as if I could hear singing voices—HYMNS—my mood lifted—I felt so calm. It was a celebration of gazing that I was having. I celebrated inside—it was like a priest putting this bread into the oven of the CHALICE—with the glistening wine—THE BLOOD... I SAW A GLINT OF BLOOD DROPLET ON THE BRAMB. I knew that you had brushed painfully past this piece here.
IT WAS GETTING DARK. Before, there was golden light—the sun was making golden-orange. I had been looking I was still looking, but now it was getting darker. I could not see as well but I could still see some. I looked into the shadowy floors beneath the floors—YOU WERE GONE.
I did not any longer know what to do—YOU WERE HIDDEN—YOUR REALITY IS UNKNOWN TO ME.
You could be hiding. Scared, you heard me coming—alarmed you sought cover, you buried yourself beneath leaves—You choiced over a rock and made your DECISIONS. You tried what you thought was best.
For me, there was no best. I was merely looking on, curiously puzzling over you, your injury, your vanishing————Maybe you will die tonight or tomorrow night because you broke both your wings, you have internal bleeding now—OR maybe you felt just a little sore, and because of being on the deep ground, surrounded by branches and thorns, you knew you couldn't fly here, so you just took off running—and ran to a good place where you could launch into flight. You were gone—I could not see you at all.
I don't care————Maybe an animal? Maybe an optical illusion eclipsed you? Maybe an agile skunk or a quick rat or raccoon, nimble—WAS HAPPENED TO BE CHILLING THERE WHEN YOU CAME RIGHT DOWN—And thus you were taken away—Stealthily?
Maybe I just wasn't listening right, and thus thoughtsly, I am getting weary, I will leave—I will never know—AND TO A VERY GREAT EXTENT IT MATTERS SO LITTLE. I don't care. I said a prayer—I said BIRDY, WOULDN'T IT BE NICE IF YOU WERE OKAY! I laughed aloud and tossed my hair—I felt my long hair wagging as I was tossed. I took out my phone and took a selfie. I scraped myself on the thorns as I thrashed with joy, rejoicing at the mysteries.
I pulled down my pants, I pissed around on the leaves. I kicked the leaves as I was pissing—and wetted my pants and legs with the splashing spray of piss. I said a prayer for McDonald's and Wendy's value meals because I could smell the residues of those meals I had eaten in my essence. As my penis became erect, I pushed to squirt out the remaining ounce or so of urine, and a nugget of shit pushed through my anus—I could feel it falling at the speed of wind, at the speed of flight and falling dead bird speeds—DOOMED—GRAVITY—FALLING—EXPELLED—GONE—VANISHED.
I did not want the nugget to land in my boxers, TO MAKE THE THIRD MYSTERY OF THE EVENING! I wanted something better, so I jerked my pelvis just in time, and the turd had its course diverted by my body's wavelength. I did a sine wave motion—the turd was whipped clear of my underpants around my ankles. As this happened the top of my dick slapped my belly and I said YES! I pulled up my pants and looked down and saw my little shit nugget resting on some leaves a few feet away. I kicked it as hard as I could. I had sensed that it had gone speeding , but I did not see where it went.
I KNEW THAT I WOULD NOT LOOK FOR IT. AND THAT I WOULD NEVER KNOW ANYTHING MORE ABOUT WHAT BECOMES OF IT. What if an animal who eats it also eats the wounded bird? This is NOT MY BUSINESS.
I took the presence of this new possibility, this new Myster—
I took it as a sign—
It was getting darker. I was glad. I kept climbing—I resumed—I picked up where I had left off.
I WENT SCRAMBLING INTO THE NIGHT ON THE SIDE OF A GREAT HILL.