I spend an afternoon learning, at a business that deals in renewable energy installations: solar, wind, sunflower biofuel, deep and shallow earth climate control, 10:1 efficient LED lighting. New ideas. Stimulating.
My mind boggles, wanders, speculates, contemplates the most energy-hogging device we own. How much solar and wind energy, I wonder, would it take to power our electric clothes drier?
A kindly older woman stops her bicycle on the dirt road to lecture me briefly about having my dogs loose. I know this lecture. I had it a year ago, and changed my route slightly to avoid passing her house.
I think of possible responses, and my Spanish is far enough along that I can probably make a conversation of it. For what?
Entiendo, I say. I understand.
Entiende, she says. You understand.
She continues one way on her bicycle. I continue the other way, leash in hand, dogs loose.
Time to change my route again.
Early at my desk. Back door open for pets. Suddenly a loud squeaky toy. But our pets have no squeaky toys. Rush to dining room, drag the little dog from hell by its tail from underneath the sideboard. In the next moment cradle in my hands a small brown songbird, upside down, damaged, panting furiously. I carry it to side wall. Its eyes blink, look at me. I imagine healing energy from my hands, but it looks like a goner. I gently place it – not upside down – atop the wall amongst squash plants, safe from cats.
An hour later, it’s gone. Apparently not a goner after all.
Not my footprint, honest.
Walking toward the beach, a bicycle approaches. A guy my age or more, graying hair, riding at a decent speed. With his left arm, he carries a rake. With his right arm near the seat, he tows an electric lawn mower, cord neatly coiled atop. I turn and watch, somewhat in awe, and listen to the whirring of the lawnmower wheels, quieter and quieter.