It’s not the bridge over trouble waters I look for when I can’t find my way to the other side of problems. I put on my rubber boots and walk right up the middle of them–like I did in Nameless Creek this morning.
A whip-poor-will flushed from the gravel of the road as I approached well before six o’clock. I must have almost stepped on him before he broke, shadow against shadow, for a place higher on the ridge to resume his monotonous sales pitch.
The moon (alas, I can’t even say which side of full we’re on) was framed between the branches of the walnut just east of the house. I thought briefly about running back for my camera. But no. This walk was to simplify my thoughts, not add another layer of purpose and intention to them.
The short of my conundrums du jour, as far as transient blog browsers who might flit here briefly, is that for the time being, I’ll be doing some degree of blogging (what that means, to be determined after another few pre-dawn creek walks) over at the mostly-neglected “other” blog, Nameless Creek, where at least I can add and subtract from the page without fear of birthing grotesque monstrosities in the page script.
Having completely started over again with the new template here last week, already I’ve run into the same problem of not being able to make minor changes without causing damage to the rest of the page. I’m losing patience. Very little is working seamlessly, and the technology is taking precedence over the poor, beleaguered morning Muse.
Blogrolling doesn’t work. Google analytics shows NO visitors to the page, even though SiteMeter shows 160+. And while once these visits were once predominately intentional stops from other blogger-regulars, today they are mostly image-seeking search engine vagabonds. There’s not much community in that.
It’s time for a change. Changes, maybe. I’m just not certain where the currents are carrying me.
But then, I look back over the past half-dozen years and see that the month of June has marked the end of one seasonal and personal pulse and the beginning of another clearly different direction of flow. More often than not, the changes were both necessary and beneficial. Sometimes it was push, sometimes it was pull; approach, avoidance, you search for the middle course between them. In the end, movement in any direction is better than stagnant waters, don’t you agree?