Big & Little

Saturday Puhg and I hiked up toward the Observatory to watch the sunset. An idea I had to shake things up, freshen things up. The lookout was a stupid LA nightmare. There was a TikTokker blasting viral sounds while filming the gorgeous sun, tourists snapping photos and hyping each other up, a lesbian couple making out and blocking the view. Then an ambulance started screaming from the east. Then another from the west. Then a helicopter flew over. By the time the natural wonder ended I was ready to blow up the entire city.

On our walk up I'd seen a fat beetle in the middle of the path. A dog rounded the corner so I put my foot right next to the bug, keeping it safe from paws and licks. The dog passed, Mr. Beetle crawled on. But after the sunset, as we hoofed back down Puhg saw the same type of beetle, but this one was crushed. We sent out a little love to whoever they were, but still the sadness sat. "Now I've gotta move every beetle I see," Puhg muttered.

At home I laid on the bedroom floor and did a meditation. They haven't been working so effectively lately. Popping in my airpods and mentally sailing away used to be a surefire way to reset myself, to worry less, to remember what is important. But for the past couple weeks it's just not working. I try to show up anyway, but Puhg interrupts and pulls me from the void. "We're supposed to be able to see the space station." He'd set an alarm. Apparently we had three minutes.

We trotted to the balcony and peered up. I saw a planet and squinted beyond. "Oh! There it is!" I pointed. There was a very very very faint dot of light far far far away. But when I tried to get Puhg to see, I realized the dot was actually so faded I lost it. A minute in I began to internally pivot. Well, nice to know it's out there. And then Puhg turned around, looked at another portion of the sky--and there it was! Clear as day! A brilliant streak of white zipping by! I immediately teared up. "There are people in there!" Puhg said! We waved to them. "Hi hi hi! We see you!" we shouted. And those people in their station kept going--7000 miles per hour--away away away. They made their way toward our roof. I leaned over the edge as long as I could, until suddenly they were gone.