Last night I parked the #viromecaravan under a rather leafy tree.
By the morning’s light some things came clearer than in the sincerity of darkness.
Throughout the night there were noises, hushed bloop like. Sounded like large drops of rain.
I was tried, or so my excuse goes – so managed to convince myself, against all other evidence and indeed under a tree circumstance – that it was raining.
Well.. More like raining poo. Birds poo with great generosity. A spontaneous generosity when we notice the nobility of birth in the genealogy of the poo magnanimity.
Another kind of rain will come later.
There were 3 almost distinct poo colours on the caravan’s blackness. Light greys, Light browns, and blackberry purples. They were arranged, almost in rows browns at the top, purples down the curve, and greys in between.
They were left, as marks of poo reflections from birds. Humans thought i should “clean” them markings up. I think some felt some kind of disgust or revulsion.
Perhaps the fact that I, an animal who can exercise will-to-wash, did not clean – was the very sense of their revulsion.
I might be that by not cleaning – other humans felt some kind of a violence from me?
As the case was.. A few hours went by, and then some highly porous water oriented rain came to wash most of the birds poo off the caravan.
Now we have something going on between clouds, winds, rain, viromecaravan, and bird poo – nothing for humans to poke noses into too?