Notes from a pond

*I dictated this blog post without any drugs or painkillers except Advil. And this was before I got X-rays done and found out I have scoliosis of the lower back.

Shit, I threw out my back again. Hmm. Well maybe I haven’t mentioned it before but occasionally my back goes out. Sometimes I just sneeze or I just bend down to pick up a sock. I go to Equilibrium Montclair for Pilates and that helps me a lot. My back goes out less frequently, but sometimes it just does it’s thing.

We rented a house with a pond somewhere in the Catskills. I used to come up here a lot as a kid. My mom worked for this WASP that had a cattle farm up here and they also used to take me to a Buddhist temple. My parents aren’t Buddhists, they’re Catholics, but they obliged my interests. One of my favorite walks is up here at Minnewaska. I usually walk to the one pond and take a swim then circle back. It’s nice this time of the year although I feel like NY State is more run down than usual. Last spring I took Jenny to visit my family’s old land in Long Island and we drove out to Montauk. The LIE is a shit road. There’s just something about NY State that seems run down. Like parts of the Jersey Shore or places like Passaic are rundown but it’s got heart and grit. People push their way through life. But up here I see so many abandoned homes and even still many of the homes are half falling apart. It reminds me of parts of Connecticut where you’d swear there was no real middle class and you see 4 or 5 towns with the same kind of vibe and economy.

As a child I was enamored with the idea of the Soviet Union. Not because I cared about Communism, but I met a lot of Russians growing up and their perspective on life just seemed so real to me. My hometown was pretty rough, but none of us really had that Soviet mindset. We were cautious but not paranoid. We thought the system was against us, but if you hustled there was a chance. The Russians I knew gave off the vibe that there was nothing. Just be glad you are alive. The New York City is a great area to grow up in terms of encountering a lot of people from all over the world. It’s hard to be the ignorant American around here unless you’re that dumb. But it’s also kind of depressing.

At least it’s deliciously quiet up here. I can listen to the Brook slowly emptying into the pond, acorns falling, and chipmunks calling. I love to watch animals and insects do their thing. The deer browse, the salamanders swim the shallows, and the wood pecker does whatever. As I dictate this, a deer and I have been staring at each other for roughly 10 minutes now. I asked it if it wants a beer as a joke. To be honest it seems more curious by me than me of it. She does her left shimmy then wags her tail. She signals to her little ones and they take off like a mini stampede. Actually she circled back while the little ones go up hill. She squares herself to me and wags her tail again. It’s almost like she’s waiting for me to either get the hell away or maybe follow her. I should follow her but my back is garbage. In California I used to track quail. I’ve had a few run ins with lame park rangers because I’d cut through the thick woods. I have encountered a lot of animals: coyote, bobcats, skunks, snakes, etc… I’m talking up close and personal. Never been sprayed though. Well, almost.

She’s making loud songs with her nose and stomping the ground. She just darted back and forth. There’s not really much I can do except watch. I can barely stand for more than 10 minutes.

She’s gone.

This reminds me of my organic random encounters of friendliness I’ve had throughout my life. You know, like when you are walking down the street and you help an old lady cross. Or someone is trying to setup a table outside their store and you just randomly help and walk off. Except this time it’s with an animal.

She’s back. More huffing and puffing. I have a stalker. This also reminds me of bodyboarding in Newport Beach and having a seal just hang in the waves with me and others. Encounters like these are fundamental to being alive. Humans are humans. We are animals that inhabit a whole world with others. We don’t always understand each other, but unless there’s hunger involved they are always ready to hang.

I finally get up and start following the deer. I find a stick to help me walk. As I get closer, the deer would move further up the hill. This is going on for about 15 minutes until I just find a stump to sit on. My back is killing me.

After a while I notice that it is starting to get dark, so I waved to the deer in that awkward kind of way when you are trying to be cool but aren’t. I stumble back to the cabin and check for ticks.

In my California past, I would have assumed this was leading to something profound in the new age sense. But as I’ve gotten older and experienced more random things I come to understand life amongst nature as being mostly unknowable to someone from a culture that is constantly trying to reduce every thing to numbers and logic. I feel weak and lost, but at the same time it shows me glimpses of a reality that is undeniably true unlike ours today.