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The Dune Forest / The Moth

I spent last Saturday with my kid brother, Johnny, at the dunes out on the peninsula. He's a camper, and has been living out there since getting in from Tucson a few weeks ago. He also happens to be schizophrenic, according to the State of Arizona. All I know is that he's not very good at camping yet, but he likes it well enough (despite our unseasonal late rains - I think we're going to go from rain season to fog season with no real Spring at all). He also likes burritos, so I brought some out there with me. The dust, sea salt, and sun are turning him leathery; it makes his blue eyes that much brighter on his face. His posture is improving, and I see him getting stronger.

I was thinking about his days out there in the dunes. The roar of the ocean is constant; the cosmic engine in perpetual gear, churning out phenomena.

When I was washing dishes earlier I could hear the sound of the ocean in the running water, and the crash of waves in the underwater grind of the ceramic plates. I caught movement out beyond the window, and looked up. My eyes focused on a moth, struggling against an old spider web from the Fall. A tiny spider was picking its way down the wild sine wave of an anchor strand. The oscillation was too much for the creature; the moth kept shaking the spider loose, only to begin again. The fluttering shape tore loose and vanished into the night, and the spider stopped on the web, absorbing the final vibrations.

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