Getting Into My St. Francis

In light of, well, most everything

(for example, three good TV
stations [PBS] out of four
gazillion; equivocating, hesitating
hosts of liberal news/opinion shows
as vs. take-no-prisoners hosts of
conservative post-truth, phony news/
entertainment shows; tweets, tweets,
tweets and more moronic tweets
from the soon to be Commander
in Tweets; democrats with their
thumbs up their butts; waiters and
waitresses who say “Perfect,” every
time you order anything including
the glass of water; zombie stares
at cell-phones, traffic in Phoenix),

I thought it would be nice to
get more into nature even though
I hike, bike or jog most everyday,

so I walked a ways down a local
trail and stopped to ask Brother
Hill how he was doing (to be more
specific, it was several rocks that
I asked) and Sister Cholla Cactus
if she were having a good day and
enjoying the unusual amount of
rain we had been having.

A jogger passed, and feeling a
bit awkward to be found talking
to rocks and trees, I just leaned on
my hiking sticks and said “Hi, have
a good run.”

The jogger answered, “Thanks.
Have a nice hike,” which I thought
was nice. People tend to be
friendlier in nature.

My other brothers and sisters along
the trail just stared at me, (Things
are quiet in the desert and I
imagine most animal, mineral and
vegetable are introverts.) but
I still felt a little like St. Francis
as I moseyed on back to the
condo to have a conversation
with my chocolate lab, who, on
occasion, will bark, especially
if he wants me to hurry up
with his dinner.

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