The world is a strange place, dudes.
It’s to my greatest regret and my greatest gratitude, that we don’t have a fence in the backyard. Because of that, Buzz, the garbage disposal that walks like a dog, must, in fact, be walked. Often. At great length.
If I want Buzz to be walked in a way that ensures he won’t be leaving little brown, smelly presents all over the house at inopportune times, I have to do it myself.
And so I get a chance for a little alone time with Buzz. Of course, it’s not actual alone time, seeing as how Buzz is at the end of the leash, but he doesn’t actually require that I talk to him, listen to him or respond back to him. Which, as you might imagine, is a bit of a relief on occasion.
So while the walks do take out a significant portion of the day, I always find that I’m feeling much better about life at the end of each walk.
These walks also let me see some very interesting things along the way. Not even going to go into the folks who seem to believe that if they are on the other side of a house window that they’re invisible from the street. For the record? They’re not. They’re so very not invisible.
No, what got me thinking about the world’s strangeness was the pumpkin patch of old, discarded (I think) pumpkins I found the other day along a utility siding. It’s a large field of open space that allows a set of power lines to roll across the land without crossing any homes. It’s bound on each side by a small line of trees and bushes.
As I was walking into the open area, I noticed several small pumpkins in the bushes. This being the time after Halloween, I thought nothing of it.
Then, when I went back later, there were more pumpkins. Two of them were rather large and rather white, something I’d never seen before. I’m assuming they’re a thing, but not something I’ve known about.
Strange, I thought, then walked on.
Finally, on a third trip through, I found even more pumpkins on the ground. I counted up a total of nine pumpkins, some large and some small.
Now, I realize it’s probably because the people nearby didn’t want to throw their pumpkins out and wanted, instead, to offer them to the local wildlife, but that’s the logical reasoning and doesn’t really cover why they appeared over a number of different days.
And, besides, we have no way of knowing if it’s true. There could be any number of reasons, from aliens setting bad traps for people who, only a few weeks ago, seemed to have pumpkins everywhere, to the spontaneous appearance of pumpkins in the nexus of all Halloweens throughout the multiverse.
It’s the difference between not understanding something and something being a mystery. Mysteries are lovely and allow for such speculation and, best of all, they are there until we decide to solve them.
Mysteries allow for the strange and the unusual. Mysteries are the stuff of adventure.
The world is a strange place.
Let’s keep it that way*.