Due to the wildfire smoke moving down from Nova Scotia and Quebec, there will be no lengthy observations while actually sitting out on The Urban Porch ™. There is an ominous, post-apocalyptic tint to the sky at the moment. Odd reflections of light caused by the haze replicate small images of the sun on the hoods of cars and on the water in the bird bath. Yesterday the atmosphere was tinged a gray-orange. Today only marginally different. It burns the throat, lungs, eyes – leaves a harsh, almost acidic scent.

By late afternoon yesterday, the sun was like a fiery, red rubber ball in the sky, which has prompted a new earworm, circa 1966 – “Red Rubber Ball” by The Cyrcle. The rest of the lyrics beyond the one stanza have nothing to do with anything here, beyond the sun looking like one, but there really is no explanation or rule as to how these things work when a song gets in your head.

And I think it’s gonna be all right
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin’ sun is shinin’ like a red rubber ball

Hopefully in a few days the above lines will be pertinent. Although the photo is not crisp, there was one lone crow (or perhaps a raven, it was hard to tell which from a distance) perched on top of The Crow Tree to the right. It remained there, hunched and alone, for a full two hours before taking off. I had to wonder how the smoke was affecting it, what it might be making of the whole situation. I am sad for the birds, the animals, the earth. Sad for us.

This morning the area awoke to more of the same, the sun an eerie spotlight in the sky, a strange orange glow reflecting on the blinds in the window. My hair tends to pick up the scents of what it gets exposed to, most notoriously (and awfully) other people’s cigarettes, cigars and perfumes. Briefly stepping outside to take the dog out, it has caught the acrid, burnt smell of wildfire, which has now followed me into the house. Some local events are cancelled. People out on the streets have masks on again.

Incidences like this give rise to broader thoughts about earth, nature, humans, what we have done to the earth and nature. What really matters and what does not.

Last week when the skies were clearer, a random visitor approached The Urban Porch. It happened to be the mayor of our city, door-to-door campaigning for re-election, Perhaps appearing in person was meant as a friendly, human, in-person, “get to know the voters” strategic angle. Maybe he really does want to know who his constituents are. I surmise he might have been lured over by the friendly earth flag and colorful plants on this porch, expecting positive support. He was instantly recognizable – when he introduced himself, I replied, “I know who you are”. And then I told him I actually had voted for him last time and that I wasn’t very happy with the job he has been doing.

He stepped back from what was possibly perceived as an unexpected verbal slap – I think he might have almost fallen off the porch with surprise. After expressing my disappointment by his performance so far, that he wasn’t representing some of our concerns, I gave him a laundry list of things that were put into place during his tenure that he has initiated or supported and the negative effects those things have had on quality of life around here. After each issue I brought up, he came back with answers that essentially passed the buck, things like “That’s the state’s responsibility” (when actually, no, it isn’t). Some shoulder shrugging occurred as he began to look visibly uncomfortable.

By the time he was able to extricate himself from the conversation and escape from my porch, I am sure he was sorry he ever approached this house. He’s not a bad guy…. he actually has done some righteous things for the community. A few years ago I was even able to convince him and the aldermen of this city to put in a stop sign on our street and to install crosswalks and remove some privileged parking situations from uptown for the safety of the residents. Unfortunately, even if a different candidate ends up winning and holding this office, I don’t know that they will be any better. It seems our politicians – all of them, no matter which party they are from – dwell behind screens of smoke. Sometimes it seems so futile, that we are past the tipping point, that even our best efforts to make a difference will not make a difference. These are not good thoughts, but they are the thoughts that come to me as I gaze upon these smoke-filled skies, wildfires out of control.

Off the porch and out in the neighborhood, there is some pleasure to be found in odd little reminders of human whimsy. This large, stuffed dinosaur has been perched on a fence down the street for a number of months. It has managed to survive a variety of weather and passersby. Every time I walk past it, I am impressed by its durability and can’t help but smile.

The dead, half-cut down tree trunk on the corner that sported a few painted signs a number of weeks back now has a plastic crow attached to it. It took getting up close in order to determine this was not real.

On the old maple growing next to The Crow Tree, some art has been installed. I have not figured out yet who has been leaving these symbolic surprises, but imagine eventually that discovery will be made.

In the library, tucked in a shelf among the books, someone had placed this small, painted stone bearing a poignant reminder.

At times it feels that the compilation of these observable snippets are the thread that helps to keep thoughts and emotions together; distractions and diversions in the absence of a greater control. With that, I am going to head downstairs to have a cheese melt, find some chocolate, and hope the smoke clears off soon….

And I think it’s gonna be all right
Yeah, the worst is over now
The mornin’ sun is shinin’ like a red rubber ball

~*~