Fort
Collins, Colorado
The
Richer the Clothes
Last
Sunday, my clothes went for a fresh dye, a richer orange. It was the kindness
of the ISKCON Colorado monks who addressed my fading colours. I knew it to be
an issue. The sun and regular washing take the life out of the colour.
The
police who came to visit me today, on Rd. 74, made some remarks. One of them
said, “You got the right colour. Drivers can see you from far away.” The other
officer mentioned that it is the colour of prisoners.
As usual,
police stop out of concern for safety.They have a point. Thus far, most roads
leading into the Fort Collins/Denver
area are heavily trafficked. Car accidents rate high in Colorado compared to
the rest of the nation.
It is
rare to see a walker. It’s cars that are all pervasive. Cars, cars, and more
cars. When I see a train with rail cars full of automobiles, I would like to
shout out, “Send them back where they came from. We don’t need anymore.”
A
road construction fellow also remarked, “Yeah, in the eighties I remember more
people walkin’. It’s madness today, really!”
For a
while I was in a cursing mode, condemning the world for letting cars on the
loose and attacking the freshness of air, water and space. I managed to tame the
lion in me by relaxing under some huge cottonwood trees and catching a whiff of
a Russian Olive. And just when I had laid down on the grass, in my perceived area
of privacy within a public park, then a fellow with a whipper-snipper came
cutting the grass.
Will the operator accidentally cut off my
tired feet? They
are precious. I have need of them. So I got up and got out of the way, and
proceeded to walk.
May
the Source be with you!
20
miles
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