memorial for the dog by the side of the road

memorial for the dog by the side of the road

it takes me longer than normal to shake the images of animals killed on the road. yesterday, along dolores, out of the corner of my eye i saw a rock but later realized this was a dog. this was a very much alive dog walking with its person in the dolores median, but i thought it was funny how something could look like one thing, but be another.

it was later during that same commute when i passed the real trouble. sometimes, it seems like animals are just sitting resting by the side of the road, or maybe sleeping, but in the end this image only makes it sadder, as if they were struck, hobbled over to the side, just couldn’t go on anymore, and simply lay down. that was yesterday. by today, this particular dog definitely wasn’t just resting or sleeping anymore, because it had obviously been struck and was less a dog anymore than something to clean up from the road. i am sorry to have to share it but i am compelled since i have thought it, and have wondered if there was a loneliness in those last moments of resting, that i could change, transform, or – i suppose oppositely – memorialize.

i come home and wanda yells at me and i am still thinking about the sparkling lightning on either side of the plane. still wondering how to assimilate the flashing insights of barb macleod:

so why is takeoff so awful? Is it simply the acceleration (it's very sensual...I love it!!) or is it the commitment, the no-turning-back that it represents? Or are you spitted on images of takeoff disasters--either imagined or historical??

am i taking notes, she wants to know. i am having nightmares or at least vivid dreams. the kind you get after a big meal; big food for thought.

leanne has brought peak-season juicy tomatoes home again and i can smell dinner, nearly done.

things regenerate, transform, i guess or i hope.

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