Infestation

I love this picture because of that damned beetle.  It's a beautiful day!   Someone's eating it!  Here is a picture that infers its own doom.  Soon the beetle will consume the daisy, defecate, and move to the next flower.  

Can you find the fly on the bee balm?  Same deal.

In call kinds of ways mortality lurks and reminds us, intermittently but relentlessly, that nothing remains the same.  You can stand still but you'll rot from the pressure sores that develop between your feet and the ground.

This is a whirlwind of a year and I find I am more conscious than I have been in a while.  I'm happier and more cantankerous.  I'm more than a passenger on the sofa of my destiny.  I may be rearranging the furniture more than once before this year is out.  In 20 years everyone will be talking about how "spry" I am, so I don't have much more time to waste.

So what are my motivations, then?  I'm not sure.  More later.