Metallic green triceratops beetles and more

September 26, 2013 1742

            Sometimes the smallest things in this world are amusing and they take us from the big picture and fling us into the small moments of reality that make up this crazy chaotic world.  These are the moments I do not want to miss.  These are the moments I want to share with my grandchildren.  These are the moments The Goat Man and I call adventures.

            With the constant pull of the world against us we try to find small moments just watching the world go round.  It takes all kinds to make this world go round and that is what makes this the best world to live on.  Of course it’s ability to sustain human life helps the raking also.

            The front porch where The Goat Man promotes his own personal lung cancer by smoking cigarettes crazy things occurs.  Every once in a while, there is a duck parade down the sidewalk, a dead bloated cat that needs to be moved off the sidewalk, and a small statured that walks almost everyday in what The Goat Man calls the mad hatter hat. 

            Lately, a dark SUV with really dark tinting drives by and honks at The Goat Man.  Earlier today, the mysterious friend reached out the window with an exaggerated wave.  It looked like a happy wave, but no one can be sure.

            On our anniversary The Goat Man and I snuck away to the beach.  We are grown adults with no jobs, so we never ‘sneak’ away, but it sounds like more of an adventure when I use that word.  Therefore, we snuck away to Howard Park and we walked on the beach.  With our feet wet to our ankles we walked in the warm water watching small fish with long straw like noses swim around and scurry off as we splashed.

            At the end of the beach we climbed up on the rocks (never mind the sign) and sat enjoying each other in silence.  It is amazing how closely two hearts will beat when surrounded by the outdoors and serene peaceful bodies.  I don’t need to hear The Goat Man say the waves are beautiful because we both know they are.  We can feel the beauty in the world around us.

            On the rocks we sat watching a pod of dolphins swim around the point.  First they played jumping over each other splashing and gaining our notice.  Then they swam in a group around the bend and across in front of us.  They were not more than ten feet away.  We took a video, but we now regret not entering the water and joining them.

            We went back to that same beach two days ago with The Goat Man’s sister.  She drove from the other side of the state to spend the day with us.  Because I would have been a breathing shark call I did not swim when they went swimming.  I walked on the crushed shell and sand beach.

            I much preferred the time alone with my thoughts.  I cannot remember the last time I was alone.  I need time with myself to formulate my life plan and goal agenda.  It is the time alone that keeps me strong and focused.  I have been swirling around chaos so long I was forgetting my purpose.  I was starting to whine and I dislike whining!

            Standing in water half way up my calf with the occasional wave hitting that spot on my short leg that wasn’t wet, (The water is always colder in that spot.) I felt some thing swish between my legs and felt some thing smack against my outer right leg.  I spun with all the grace of a drunken ninja just in time to see a dark spot dash into the deeper waves.  My brain knows it was a fish and it was quick.  It had to have been at least as big as the feet of the lady at the blood mobile.

            With my newfound ninja skills I slowly stepped back one large step at a time nonchalantly looking around me in a panic without looking like I was looking.  I was using the “OMG did some one see” move that is very common among drunken ninjas.

            I had to move away.  I was unable to see if the shadow fish was wearing a hoody or not.  I didn’t know if the school he came from was possibly a school like X-men attend.  With our pollution a X-fish school is not so far fetched.  In this day and age one cannot be too safe.

            After a few steps back I stood with only my toes getting wet and peered out into the waves.  The shadow fish had been gone now for quite some time, but I was still looking for the remains of the school.  I felt seaweed on my pinky toe.

            The seaweed brushed the side of my pinky toe like a tickle feather and I moved my foot just a little to the left.  I was still peering and searching into the continually cresting waves when I felt the seaweed again, so annoyed I moved my foot up, shook it, and placed it back down.  I must have placed it back into the seaweed.

            Not wanting to end my peering, but irritated by the seaweed I thrust my head so that I was looking directly at my foot.  It was not standing in seaweed.  I almost laughed out loud.  A small quarter size crab with one claw half the size of its body was attacking my pinky toe.  I moved my foot and it did a little side step and attacked again.  Now I was convinced the shadow fish was from the X-fish school.  One of those fish could talk telepathically.

            These are the moments where the world reminds us of what it is and how we fit into it.  That was the bravest crab ever.  I know this because I would have ran from a pinky toe three times my size and attached to a human three hundred times larger. (And not just because I hate feet.)  The hero crab was in the same category as the attack turtle.  They were both heroes.

            The X-fish are another category of being.  They are the “think smarter not harder” class of individual.  They are quiet, sneaky, and always thinking.  The black crow that came down and stole my granddaughter’s McDonald’s bags once long ago at the playground. 

            There are few heroes in this world and there are few thinkers in this world.  The masses generally fall into the workers.  They are just average creatures that get up and do what has to be done so they can enjoy the rewards of their labor.  They spend most of their time working along side of others and a small amount of their time playing.  They play like the dolphins as they swam by.

            At Starkey Park, The Goat Man and I walked along the “solar system trail” and saw some worker beetles.  I did not name the trail and I did not see any planets other than this wonderful one we are all riding on.  What I did see was the cutest little triceratops beetles.

            They looked like every beetle I have run from in the past, but they had metallic forest green (no pun intended) triceratops faces.  We saw four of them in total.  They all looked the same from above.  We did not get that close after all they are beetles and they were pushing a piece of animal poo.

            Yes, I said animal poo.  We first spotted beetle number one (I am going to call him Fred.) single handedly pushing a piece of poo across the black top.  It was a small piece in our perspective, but it was at least ten times the size of the beetle.

            Fred was pushing his poo energetically and he was doing a great job.  I could hear his thoughts.  I don’t know if it was because of my contact with the X-fish or not.  He was as happy as a gold miner or the Beverly hillbillies when they found that bubbling crude.

            A head of Fred just into the grass two other beetles started coming toward the rolling poo. (I am going to call them Tweedle D and Tweedle Dum.)  So, Fred is pushing and pushing and focused on his prize.  He was going to be the hero of the beetle town.  All of the beetle women were going to flock to his poo and love him.  Homeless beetle children were going to have full stomachs tonight.

            The poo rolled off the edge of the black top and made three complete rolls into the grass.  Fred turned around instantly, “oh crap! Where did my poo go?” (Still no pun intended)  The poo almost rolled over Tweedle D and Tweedle Dum, but they didn’t even see it.  They started to split zig sagging in a pattern of search.  Perhaps two or three smacks from the X-fish would have allowed me to tell them where the poo was.

            The Goat Man and I laughed because we could both see ourselves doing just what Fred had done if the roles were reversed.  I do silently thank my God that I am not a beetle and do not wish to ever be a beetle pushing poo.  We watched for several long minutes.

            A fourth beetle arrived (I did not name him) and began helping Fred with his newly found piece of poo.  The pushed it together away from the black top.  Tweedle D and Tweedle Dum were still zigging and sagging when we finally continued down the trail.