The most basic of human needs,
that next breath of air.
Air is life.
Today the Sacramento Valley is covered with smoke
from California’s many wildfires,
like a hat covers a head,
like a blanket covers a baby.
A fog made of poison.
May you have the wonderful blessing of your next breath.
Summer, the sun cut and burned like a dagger seared in a campfire and the valley slowly cooked in its wound.
I have better hopes for autumn.
Just beneath the earth’s surface it is cooler,
even in summer, and the tangled roots reach down, down, down
to the woman who lives below.
This is the woman who is one with the valley, not owning the valley, and also not owned by the valley, but one. Together.
The earth is her flesh,
and the plant-roots are her hair.
And then, far below, miles and miles, there is fire, the magma of the planet. The fire of life.
Roots under the earth, sun above.
Flesh of the woman, flesh of life. Life above, and the stuff of life.
Respect the earth, respect the beings that live here. Make your strongest effort to do what’s right in this life, be a positive force to everything around you. No past, no future; just what you can do, the choices you can make right now. And that is a life.
A summer day in the Sacramento Valley. The trout is thirsty, and the redtail hawk craves fresh air. I am a simple human; what do I want?
—James Lee Jobe
—Medusa, thanking James Lee Jobe for new hope—“better hopes for autumn”, in fact ~ And James wishes you a Happy Halloween: See www.facebook.com/jamesleejobe/posts/10224374999825507/.
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