Thursday, April 8, 2010

Yesterday I blogged, "Nothing to say . . ." and left it at that. Somewhat akin to the wealthy society lady that opens her closet door, scans the abundant array of silken finery and sighs, then bewails, "Nothing to wear..."

More accurate would be to say that out of the jumbled abundance of thoughts, ideas, and topics crowding my conscious mind, I choose to not reveal them to the public. At this time. For various reasons. Personal reasons.

What ruminations of some numbered kind might dwell within the below pictured desert resident? -- potential revelations as yet unrevealed?

While a gathering of laughing and chattering humans, family and friends, congregate in the late evening around an outdoor fire and a talented grandson strums his guitar, the barrel cactus seems to take no notice of the adults toasting marshmallows, assembling 'smores' and laughing merrily on the fringe of the desert. The cactus, once secure in its solitude, seems outwardly aloof, appears to have no appreciation of the happy celebration, no sense of sociability.

Imagine that.

1 comment:

  1. Yes, imagine that. Or imagine this: The cactus, once split open, allows you to write the story she witnesses, the one about the happy celebration and the outdoor fire that once burned within the author's heart.