All posts by Cassandra

Writer and visual artist. Avid reader, keen observer. Nature enthusiast!

The goings on at the ponds

Photo by Cassandra Keenan

The great egrets shunned the other waterfowl.

The egrets were staying in Vegas as part of their winter migrational route. Like an ivy league clique, they stuck up their bills while congregating in a lush, green riparian grove, which made their white plumage all the more stunning — like fresh-fallen snow.

And they knew it.

Meanwhile, the gambel’s quail were skittish, despite being on their year-round turf. They ran from the paparazzi as per usual, head plumes bobbing as they made for the clearings, taking cover in the bramble. Continue reading The goings on at the ponds

Ever-rest

Holding my breath until the weekend. Some weeks feel like ascending Everest—with its peak being my two days off, of course.

Everest even contains the word “rest,” as well as “ever,” which to me means perpetual leisure and not death. Imagine having leisure forever.

This would not be like something enjoyed by a vampire, for even they have to work after sundown, seeking victim after victim to feed upon. Though Lugosi made it look effortless and then just crawled into his coffin while others in his part of the world were just waking up.

Shell

Once I found a seashell that I still have to this day. It was carried ashore by the belligerent tide at Jones Beach State Park in New York when I was a child. And now, as I feel tossed by my turbulent thoughts and frozen by frightening uncertainties, I hold onto it for solace — my seaside talisman

Cellphone zombies attack

I was at my favorite neighborhood park when suddenly a throng of zombies began advancing toward me, staring at their cellphones.

This was not your average distracted crowd. These were participants in a park-wide Pokemon Go event. Pokemon Go is a GPS-enabled augmented reality game you play with your mobile device.

Sometimes I pass judgement (see title of this post), but if games such as Pokemon Go is what it takes to get people out and around nature, then I guess it’s not such a bad thing.

On personal solubility

I’ve pinned a button onto my jacket that denotes me as soluble. Pure and simple. It’s a blue button with white text.

  • I’ve a high potential for condensation. I feel I could dissolve like salt in warm water.
  • In an argument, I can disintegrate into clumps like acrylic in an acetone bath.
  • Don’t ever wet me or expose me to sudden cold. I need to acclimate to avoid eventual evaporation.
  • When I think of soluble, I recall the Wicked Witch of the West withering. I think of candle wax burning.
  • If I had it my way, I would rather not leave this Earth in water form. I would prefer to splatter into fiery sparks.
  • Or else become a genie fog that curls into a porcelain lamp like a plume of vape smoke traveling back inside your mouth.
  • Or drift past the Milky Way into the starry spray of the multiverse.

Edward Abbey saw it all coming

With leases being sold for gas and oil exploration and development on public lands, it seemed that author Edward Abbey saw it all coming. In his 1968 book “Desert Solitaire,” he wrote:

“Until a few years ago, a simple, quiet, primitive place on the shores of the Colorado, Lee’s Ferry has now fallen under the protection of the Park Service. And who can protect it from the Park Service?”

Of course when he wrote this, he was railing against what he termed “industrial tourism” and infrastructure development at national parks and forests. But it rings very relevant with the public lands sell-off taking place under William Perry Pendley, who, unfortunately, was reappointed by the interior secretary on Sept. 30 to oversee the Bureau of Land Management. Continue reading Edward Abbey saw it all coming

Shark Shirt

He sat amid a sea of empty cafe tables and chairs — a lone island in perhaps the Pacific.

The shirt he wore bore illustrations of small sharks — a throng of them speckling the deep.

He himself wore a mohawk.

He had just demolished a slice of pizza: The flattened box sat lifeless on his table.

Hunched in his chair, he now cruised social media on his cellphone.