Saturday, April 4, 2009

Skunks are PUNKS ! and a poem about nature

It never ceases to amaze me what arrogant brats Skunks are... it like they think that just because their shit stinks worse than anything in life they are entitled to have everyone bow down to them !

This morning when I was riding my bike through Coyote hills on my way to work I happened upon a skunk in the middle of the road... actually at first I thought it was a bunny 'cause he seemed to be hopping, but then I realized it was too slow to be a bunny... and then when I started to get close he* stopped and stuck his big bushy tail up in the air and I was like WHOA... I DO NOT WANT ANY OF THAT... so I slowed down even though I had had a pretty good momentum going on my bike and was about to start up a huge hill, but that's fine. I can break for small woodland creatures.

When I stopped the skunk put his tail back down and continued to scurry SLOWLY along RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD up this STEEP ASS HILL. It was as if he figured all he would have to was threaten me with his rank rear end and I would just high tail it out of there, but there was no other way for me to get to work on time, so even if I wanted to go back and take another route I couldn't... We were on a little dirt road that ran along the edge of the bay right up against a fairly steep hillside with tall grass, so the road was really the only thoroughfare...and I was perfeclty willing to share the road with HIM, so I decided I would just speed up and hang as wide as I could and pass the lil' guy... but as soon as I was about 2 feet away from him he turned around again, thrust his little tail up and aimed his b-hole straight at me. JERK! He apparently was never taught about sharing the road.

I was alone and this skunk clearly was not intimidated by me, so I tried yelling at him to see if that would make him get out of the road... "YOU ARE A WOOD - LAND CREATURE WHY ARE YOU NOT SCURRYING OFF IN TO THE WOOD LAND AREA ? !" I yelled at him, but he just kept right on trudging up the hill IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD so I continued to sit on my bike seat and slowly scoot my bike along a few yards behind him... yelling... and every time I would start to get close him: up went his bushy striped tail.

Clearly Mr. Skunk was calling my bluff . He knew I did not want him to shoot that thing at me. He didn't even turn around and he did not step one inch out of the middle of the road until we were up over the hill and half way down the other side... that's right he made me WALK UP THE DAMNED HILL then he had the AUDACITY to STEAL the GLORIOUS DOWN HILL MOMENTUM from me. Jha-hERK ! (That's supposed to be "jerk" pronounced in a sing songy way).

Fortunately we passed his home or something 'cause he finally strolled off the road into the bushes... I think I heard him laughing though... such a punk... oh well he waass kinda cute and I made it to work on time, so I guess I'll forgive him... one thing that does make it even more annoying though was that I was totally having an awesome bike ride and nature was speaking to me or something 'cause I started having these poetic sounding thoughts so I really wanted to get to work and write a poem ( I can be super hippy dippy sometimes huh ?) But I think my poem suffered as a result of Mr. Le Pew distracting me

( *I assume it was a male skunk 'cause it was slow and annoying... j/k... about men being slow and annoying... some aren't. )

Anyway here's my naturey bike ride poem... I'm not sure about the title, but I think Sherpa seems fitting:


As the city sleeps off Friday night
and the week that came before it
I am guided by good fortune
through a spot of overwhelming natural beauty

My bike and I trespass on the perfect serenity of the morning
Birds are calling into the cool quiet mist of the wetlands all around
and I am honored to be the only lucky person
drinking in the sanctity of this moment


I am humbled and awed by the wild freedom that surrounds me
The wild freedom people have traded for an existence
bound by nagging obligations
which render numbing comfort and predictability
...for the fortunate

But I know I am only a trespasser
journeying through this tiny corner of wilderness
My presence is announced by the whirring of my bike's wheels
which sound almost like the whooshing of a birds wings... but not quite

In a moment I will see the lights of the city again
and cross the bridge that takes me to work
but before I an engulfed by obligations
I have this moment

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