Drinking coffee gets me wondering about stuff. I’m not talking about any earth-shaking issues of our time. We will leave those troubling issues to the big thinkers with their important responsibilities and imported cigars.
They get paid to speculate about whether Trump will admit defeat or not. They must tell the world when people can get a vaccine to fight Covid-19. They know for a fact how four professional quarterbacks for the same team could be so stupid as to not wear masks?
A cup of java makes me wonder about less important matters. In fact, these footnotes seem so insignificant as to make me wonder why I don’t wonder about quantum mechanics.
But instead, I ask whether Santa Claus ever trims his beard in summer. Among other things…
A post office clerk sold me stamps honoring a children’s book, The Snowy Day. He said his grandmother read this book to him as a young boy. What was so special about that story, I wonder.
A black fox lives in our neighborhood. He scampers off into the woods at the first sight of humanity. How warm does he stay when the mercury hits zero?
A big sign over One Love, the coolest little restaurant, says “Thank you Fraser.” Another sign in the window indicates the place is for sale. How can you put a price tag on love?
Four beautiful horses who share a corral in Tabernash always look rather bored to me. Their giant eyes glaze over like they had to sit through another ridiculous business meeting about the importance of being prompt. Am I reading too much into equine behavior?
The East Troublesome wildfire scorched the earth and every structure in its random path. Why were some homes untouched by flames while others right next door are nothing but a chimney and rubble?
A young couple shopping for their Christmas tree found a nice fraser fir in Murdoch’s parking lot. It was one of many trees which the Lions Club sells to raise funds for our community. Meanwhile, their young daughter found tiny sprigs that had fallen off tree branches in the snow. She handed them to surprised strangers. Was she just teaching us grownups that it’s still way better to give?
A legendary story at this time of year features a mean-spirited character named Ebenezer Scrooge. The hero of another popular holiday book is a green-faced thief. What is it about the grinch and other villains that make them our favorites?
A waterfall in Rocky Mountain National Park has a thick icy roof. Underneath, water roars downward like a baby Niagara. The sound is muted by ice. How do trout put up with this?
Before we adopted Ozzie, he ran with a pack of other city-wise dogs in Oklahoma. He got picked up by an animal control worker and later turned over to Mountain Pet Rescue. Sometimes while sound asleep in his bed, his legs try to run and he barks softly. Does he still dream about those wild sugar plums on the streets of Tulsa?
An old friend has been diagnosed with dementia. He vows to continue his hobbies–hunting deer, loving his wife and drinking manhattans–until he can’t anymore. How he can be brave like that, I wonder.
The end of 2020 has almost arrived. It’s human nature to reflect on the good, the sad and the weird that happened to them. Do we fully appreciate how lucky we are, after all that’s transpired, to still be standing?
Snow’s falling like duck feathers this morning. Will they turn into a blinding blizzard that keeps us indoors all day or simply leave a dusting to remind us that Old Man Winter’s just begun? I wonder.
Time for another cup of coffee.
