I've blogged about this exact thing before...but it was in a different setting.
A couple of years ago, I came across a dead squirrel outside my old apartment on Mclean. It was bizarre, surreal, and engrossing. I couldn't stop looking at it. Well, I've found a new squirrel. It's along the walk from that curve in Zach Curlin, right in front of the school...not the college...but the kids school...I think that's what it is. I see kids there all the time. Anyway...this dead squirrel has been there for weeks now. In fact, I think that if I walked by, and it was gone, I'd be a little sad. I know...insane...but it's interesting. Sometimes I walk by, and I just glance at it, and sometimes I walk by and have a little moment of silence. It looks different every time. I can run the respective pictures in my mind of the 'body' and it would be like watching a stop motion film of a decomposing dead thing. It fascinates me. It's there...but it's not there. It was living once, and now it's not, and no one seems to want to be the one to move it out of the way. I mean, I'm not going to. It almost, at this point, seems unnatural to...like it would break up the continuity of the landscape...of the natural-ness...of things. It's teeth were very prominent this evening. It's eyes have been gone for some time, but it's teeth, naturally, are hanging on for dear life(?).
I have a hard time imagining myself a few months ago...in London...taking the tube places...going about my daily routine. I have a hard time picturing that as me...doing those things...walking those paths. I found a great deal of joy in very small things. Or maybe they weren't small. I found this short-cut on my walk home from the overland train through this field/park surrounded by houses. The wind would always hit my face at an angle, and make my nose run and my eyes water...but I liked the feel of it in my hair. I can't decide if I was unhappy or happy. I remember myself as happy. Maybe that's just my remorse. I fell in love with walking all over the city one day after working at the charity for the dame. I didn't feel like going home, and the city seemed to be bustling. The tunes on my ipod were particularly agreeable, so I just kept walking...enjoying myself...enjoying the sights, the history, the busyness of everything. I ran into one of the guys from the office, and he looked confused, asked me if I was lost, and then told me a little about the history of the area. It was a lovely area. There were many lovely areas.
I can't stay here forever. Someone...probably me...is going to have to move me along. It seems natural at the moment...I'm a part of the landscape, but I can't be forever. I know this. I feel this. If I don't, I'm just decomposing...nourishing the soil, sure...but flat, and lifeless all the while. It's comfortable...but frightening....surreal.