Most of our time is spent inside as the outside is growing progressively hotter. Then, all of sudden, just as we accommodate ourselves to the encroaching desert heat, it cools off. From October through mid-May, we can take multiple walks over the course of the day. For me, this amounts to between 5 and 7 one-mile-long strolls around the neighborhood where I find little treasures such as a cactus that’s been in bloom for weeks like this one above. By January, my first and last walks are in the dark, and sometimes even two of my miles in the evening are during the night. Here in June, it becomes increasingly more difficult to avoid the sun and so a shift in routine is required.

We wake between 4:45 and 5:00 in the morning and try to get out on a 3-mile walk as soon as possible so we can beat the sun before it peaks over the horizon. These rare days when the morning temp is in the low 70s have been great, but when it’s over 80 or worse, 90 with the sun glaring down on us, our walks become a struggle. Even though it might be tough, we still try to hoof out a few miles, knowing that between 8:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m., it’s near impossible to endure the heat and blistering sun of the mid-day.

Even though it might be seriously uncomfortable, I still find myself taking time to stare at a cactus, watch the bees pollinating its blossoms, or a woodpecker perched high above on one of its arms, contemplating its next move. I don’t know that I ever considered the benefit of the saguaro’s arms in casting shadows or how the ribs of this cactus also create shade that probably helps cool this giant of the desert. Even its needles make sense when, on a windy afternoon, I listen to the thrush of air whipping around the saguaro, and the hissing sound from thousands of needles makes me wonder if they contribute to turbulence over the surface of the cactus and thus help keep it cooler?

Come to think about the gnarled and deep bark on the mesquite trees, how much shade and surface evaporation area does it allow so this nearly black tree doesn’t boil in the noon-day sun? Along the path of our walks, we pass many ants and lizards, but it is with curiosity we look at the ants moving slow as molasses when the temperature is barely 70 degrees while at 100, they move with purpose and bolt over the frying pan of earth. While there was still a chill in the air, the birds would sing all day; now, as we are effectively already in summer, the birds take refuge, and their song remains quiet while shadows are at their smallest.

Still, we must go outside as there’s too much to miss, such as a frequency of spectacular sunsets that we’ve not seen anywhere else, though the Oregon Coast, when conditions are right, can astonish the most jaded sunset watcher. Arizona is approaching monsoon season, and while the last years feel like they’ve been dry, the buildup of clouds can lay a foundation for light shows that force many a person from their car to try and grab a shot to send to skeptical friends and family who live in sunset deprived locations. Then again, maybe the sunsets are beautiful everywhere but people forget that they really do need to get outside.

I live in America, where we love us some good hate. Liberty for those who are like us is what we want, and death would be a fitting end for those who offend our pure sense of an archaic aesthetic. It’s tragic how this works for every racial/ethnic group on Earth in some way. Everyone is different and not like us unless they belong to our cult. There’s almost a hint of comedy in these groups that speak of great individualism and true freedom while practicing conformity that has no room for freedom outside of strict guidelines.

Humanism is my brand of wackiness where, delusionally, I have this half-baked idea that we are better off embracing one another, sharing knowledge, and enriching each other’s lives. Of course, I could be naive, and the conveniences of modern life could be had by enslaving minions who have no other options, but what do I know, as I’m not a white supremacist? Why is this even here on my blog today? Because Caroline found this sticker on a lamppost in our neighborhood while we were out walking in the morning.

Normally, we just walk around the block, and I tend to avoid the businesses and offices along our route as they hold nothing that appeals to me. Yes, the shops in our area are mostly worthless to us. For example, we have a local Department of Economic Security office that is a near-constant shitshow. I know this sounds harsh, but prior to the COVID shutdown, if I were to drive by (because in those times, I’d never walk along this particular stretch of road), the people who would loiter and cavort in the parking lot were not of my social group. (Hmmm, this sounds nearly as dismissive as the right-wingers I was just writing about in the paragraph above.)

So my bias and contradictory bullshit obviously put me in some kind of elitist position in which I think people of lesser means are below me – though that’s not right as I certainly believe everyone needs some help from time to time – but back to the shitshow comment before I explain the photo. My reference is about the fact that on any given day (prior to COVID), there was an obvious modus operandi at work at this facility where meth, alcohol, lack of birth control, poor education, and poor choices all around are part of the DNA of many of the applicants. True, there are always extenuating circumstances due to abuse, violence, brain damage, fetal alcohol poisoning, and various other traumas that might be influencing things, but that doesn’t excuse our society from putting people through even more bullshit by forcing them to congregate at the Church of Begging for Assistance or CBA.

This has gone way off track and is indicative of me drifting from one thing to another with little to connect the disparate elements of my wandering. Back to the photo: On the other side of the CBA is the Child Care Administration. I didn’t know this prior to walking up to check out all the signage. That’s when I was struck that between the signs about social distancing and not coming in if the visitor or their child has any symptoms of illness or respiratory distress was the sign informing visitors that guns are not allowed.

Here, you are visiting a place to request help for your children, but maybe you are packing a weapon just in case you have to leave empty-handed. You know what you came for, and you ain’t leaving without it, so you brought a loaded weapon in the off chance you have to waste the scum asshole at the desk who could deny you cash right in front of your child. The plan was to pull out the .45 and shove a bullet in their head in order to maintain self-respect and teach your child who’s the boss, except that’s not allowed here, and there’s a sign that enforces this rule.

If it wasn’t for the bees, flowers, clouds, cacti, trees, sky, stars, birds, lizards, and even the pesky flies, I’d be overwhelmed by our lack of compassion, common sense, intelligence, and passion to better ourselves. The bee is bettering the hive by selflessly taking many trips to random flowers and then tediously flying up to the uncaring stamen to collect some, not all, of the pollen. Packed onto her hind legs, the corbiculae are delivered back to her mates, where the feast ensues. At the hive, she will allow the other bees to suck the nectar she drank along its journey from her stomach, draining water and adding enzymes until only honey remains. This cooperative existence of sharing abundance works for an insect with a brain 20,000 times smaller than ours and is a testament to just how stupid we humans are.