Domestic Entertainments

I find my entertainments close to home as nothing could be more wildly hilarious and downright curious than my own complex teenagers who sometimes speak and do their math about what adds up toward our shared and independent futures. Then there are cacophonous birds mourning doves and sparrows blue jays and robins yellow finches and ravens greeting dawning light as if some unprecedented miracle were unfolding about which they will chatter and chirp amongst themselves for many generations to come, like climate marchers just happy to be here for this climaxing stellar event. Then too I have neighbor watching and listening which picks up more during afternoons, after school buses drop off wounded and yet still wondering kids, with dogs and cats and even grandparents to greet them, while moms and dads slave away at their own employee entertainments. Meanwhile squirrels and chipmunks scold and scamper with playful industry, or playing at industry, who could say? Worms are burrowing in the garden, hopefully, although I hate to interrupt them solely for my frivolous fancies regarding appropriate adult entertainment. They often respond, upon my thunderous devastation of enlightening presence, as if they were having some intimate moment that I have immodestly exposed to light. I apologize and move on. The bumble bees have posted flying sentries around my front porch, each flying in place all day long tiny yellow and black helicopters engaged in serious military intelligence gathering over my scandalously erratic comings and goings, importations and exportations, exhortations, and, even worse, often actually sitting down on their porch's swing, rocking back and forth, and staring back, just as if I were not least bit intimidated. Merely curious about what's so valuable at home up under their roof that they find me such a suspicious alien threat. But really, for me, these bumbling buzzing sentries are merely entertainment. I especially love to watch when they occasionally dive-bomb each other for some inscrutable random whimsy in which it occurs to me their placement may be a pageant having nothing to do with me, other than my enjoyment of their benign entertainments here in this home we share. While star gazing and looking for the moon's rise and fall, wax and wane, sailing behind and between diaphanous clouds, stretch my focus further out at night, this seems to suit my at home dreams as do these raucous insects selling nocturnal sex and happiness as if my backyard on down toward the river were their red light flowing district. It amuses me, hearing their combined intensity of purpose, to continue my entertainments on through each warm month night until its time for those gospel choiring birds to squawk and chirp whistle and cheep another at home climate marching dawn.