OTHERWISE
Electric

“You wouldn’t have had to do that,” Jennifer protested, short of breath, after I gave her a twirl around as we walked down the hill full of creaky trees, monkeying squirrels and the reverberations of a woodpecker bird up in the canopy of old growth in Inwood Hill Park – home to Byler marriage proposals and occasional natural refreshment. Jennifer was stuck in the twirly-whirl because she had her left hand in my right hand coat pocket where she was “warming it up.” I just had been telling her that I felt like I was losing my enchantment with nature and no longer felt like writing cliché-y sounding descriptions of the ecstasy of nature in the raw. I’ve moved on to understatement I said. Then when we were walking under the big straight trees I started thinking about what it will be like in Alaska two months from now in the teeming deciduous rain forest outside of Juneau. Maybe I’m not too far gone yet.


Also I’m really starting to enjoy New York again. Maybe its because of the new friends I’m making in our nascent “Organization for the advancement of Inner Eurasian Societies” – read OASIES + me = talking to people about Uyghurs. Another possibility is that I like the way the two middle-aged garbage collectors with mini afros straight out an advertisement for The Invisible Man whistled as they tossed bulging black bags into their giant green truck. I may have “caught an updraft” according to my friend Matthew who occasionally talks to me about nothing in particular for hours on the phone from Ohio. Maybe its just the return of bike-riding weather, or maybe it’s because I drank a bunch of coffee but right now I feel great.


A new café opened up across our gentrifying street last Monday and the omelets are good and the coffee strong. I can look out our window right now and see the Tibetan flags in our apartment fluttering pathetically. That's the only thing that makes me sad on this otherwise electric day.