The wind has swept all of the crap out of the air and under a carpet somewhere. It's been cooler too.

I saw a barn owl sitting on a fence a couple of nights ago, waiting for a rat or some other small critter to show itself. I was too big, so it let me drive by unmolested. I got to thinking about how this stationary bird and I were doing exactly the same thing, and it was doing it with considerably less effort. We were both working for our basic needs. For the owl, that meant rats, or mice, or small rabbits. For me, that meant a paycheck, which could be traded in for money and taken to the grocery store where I would hand it over in return for "food" consisting of additives, preservatives, artificial colors, and packaging.
The owl has the simpler job. Stand on fence. If something moves, swoop down, grasp it in talons, and fly somewhere high up to eat it. My job consists of about 25 to 30 hours a week of delivering two different newspapers all over Sunnyvale, and another 12 or so hours a week working in a children's museum. Of course, I also have to have a clock so I know when to be at these jobs. Sometimes I think the clock is in charge. The owl doesn't need a clock to tell him when to go stand on the fence. The rats don't need little watches to tell them when to make ill-advised dashes across the road. Why do I, who am supposed to be so much more enlightened, have to answer to a little clutter of gears and springs? Why can't life be more simple? Our time saving devices aren't working. They only free up time to do other things that need to be done just as badly. We have very little free time, if any. (Ok, I obviously have a little free time - I'm writing this, aren't I?)
While I'm at it, let me mention that I hate being dependent on things I don't know how to fix. I couldn't fix this computer should the need arise. I can't fix my car beyond the most simple problems. I definitely couldn't make the majority of the things I use on a daily basis. I couldn't make a cd, for example, but I spend most of my extra money buying new ones. I think it's the music that makes life slide along more agreeably. It's a balm for the spirit, healing it while the necessities of living in this society we've created work to erode it. Music helps me maintain some sort of balance. Owls don't need music. They're already balanced.
There's a story about an anthropologist (Margaret Mead, maybe?) who goes to live with a primitive tribe. Members of the tribe are amazed at the sight of a drinking glass the anthropologist is using, so they ask her to show them how to make one. She hems and haws and mumbles something about melting down sand, and finally states that she doesn't know how. The tribe members come to the conclusion that she must have come to live with them because her own tribe, realizing she was a complete idiot, would have nothing further to do with her. Owls know everything they need to know. People in primitive tribes know everything they need to know. We, with all of our "advances" and "conveniences" don't know a fraction of the things we need to know... and it bothers me. We can no longer live simply, without dropping out of society. The problem is, society has its claws in us, and is going to take us up high, bite off our little heads, swallow us, and cough up the hair and bone. So much for the rat race.

In other news, there was a praying mantis in the garden at the museum today. It was eating bees. Sometimes it pays not to be busy.

cds listened to while pondering owls: Celtic Frost "Into the Pandemonium", Agnes Buen Garnas/Jan Garbarek "Rosensfole", Karl Blake "Paper-thin Religion", Ain Soph "Oktober", and Evil Twin "The Black Spot"

written to the tune of: Cowboy Junkies "The Trinity Session"