As I went to smell the flowers, I saw this little guy enjoying the sun and running around his leaf. I want to believe he was happy on the pure beauty of existence, with no worries about food or friends or shelter. He was so small that I almost didn’t see him. How small are we in comparison? Existing on a blue marble floating in the inky blackness of space?

One day this will all end, and the question I ask myself is whether it was worth it. The answer seems to change every day, but maybe I can learn something from this little guy and enjoy the simple fact that I exist. Maybe that’s enough.

I spent time with new friends yesterday, and they showed me a good time. I had a lot of fun following this guy around the flowers, and I hope to do more of this on a regular basis. I’ve found a new love, and that makes me happy.

My thoughts have been dwelling too much on the macro level and not enough on the micro. There’s a lot to learn and discover right here in my own backyard, and I hope to spend more of my time in that world than in the world of sensational headlines and grim statistics. At least my governor has finally made face masks a requirement in counties with over four confirmed coronavirus cases.

My goal now is to slow down and smell the flowers.

On the latest episode of The Last Archive, Jill Lepore talks about Rachel Carson and her book, Silent Spring. That book helped ban DDT, saved countless birds, and started the modern environmental movement. Jill then asks whether a book like that can change the world today. Since 1970, three billion birds have died in North America. If that’s not heartbreaking, then I don’t know what is. Oh wait.

I read Silent Spring a few years ago, and what I remember most about it was this feeling that little had changed since the time she wrote it. I went back through my notes and found this passage talking about the effects of pesticides that remains heartbreaking:

Scientific observers at Sheldon described the symptoms of a meadowlark found near death: “Although it lacked muscular coordination and could not fly or stand, it continued to beat its wings and clutch with its toes while lying on its side. Its beak was held open and breathing was labored.” Even more pitiful was the mute testimony of the dead ground squirrels, which “exhibited a characteristic attitude in death. The back was bowed, and the forelegs with the toes of the feet tightly clenched were drawn close to the thorax…The head and neck were outstretched and the mouth often contained dirt, suggesting that the dying animal had been biting at the ground.”

By acquiescing in an act that can cause such suffering to a living creature, who among us is not diminished as a human being?

COVID-19 has killed 137,000 Americans. Many of us think this virus is a hoax or a government conspiracy. Meanwhile, Americans will continue to die while we refuse to wear a fucking mask. “By acquiescing in an act that can cause such suffering to a living creature, who among us is not diminished as a human being?”

Battled more headaches yesterday, but I found relief in aspirin and writing in my notebook. A couple from Texas moved in next door recently, and they have been playing their TV deep into the night, keeping me from my sleep and my weird dreams. I dreamt there was a shootout beyond the fence of my home, and I stared out my bathroom window as the shooters hid in a doghouse and disappeared in the dark abyss. I then dreamt I befriended the couple from Texas, and we had breakfast together. I woke up to M83 and a light head.

A majority the world has denied Americans access to their countries, deeming my passport worthless. I wasn’t planning on traveling anytime soon, but it feels embarrassing that I can’t because I’m an American under the rule of an orange idiot who doesn’t care about the health of his citizens.

I have this map pinned to my wall, and it’s always in my line of sight. I put it up years ago because I’ve always had this urge to travel, but I never have because I’m the best at making up excuses. I’ve been expanding my walls slowly, taking baby steps here and there, but I’m not where I want to be. What I find sad is the fact that I’m ready to go at a moment’s notice. I’m a minimalist. I don’t need much to be happy. I’ve spent time and money reducing my possessions to the essentials, enough to survive many situations with my main backpack. If I grab my bag, start my engine, and drive away somewhere, I can survive and be happy for a few days. But I don’t because I’m scared and I don’t know how to fix that.

I spent the weekend indoors, and I feel like I wasted it. I feel guilty and ashamed, and I wish I was better about my time and my confidence to leave my home and explore the world. I’m 34, and I feel like I’ve wasted my whole life.

Last night I drank beer from a can with the word death and a skull on it. So I had a good night. I was able to write a rough draft of an idea for my new book that I’m happy with. It’s an ambitious idea and it scares me, but if it’s not tough, then it’s not worth doing, right? Unfortunately, I had to wake up feeling like death this morning to get there.

Florida reported over 15,000 confirmed coronavirus cases on Sunday, and the US is on track to record over 200,000 deaths by election day. Confirmed cases of the virus in my county have more than doubled since the beginning of July, and I continue to see people at stores without masks on. Our school conducted a survey asking our staff whether masks should be required when or if school resumes, and almost half of the staff say it’s not required. I saw this picture in a story I read in the New York Times that broke me. I read another article that described the US as the world’s largest experiment in herd immunity. I found out today that a former friend’s mom died a few nights ago.

I feel helpless. What does it say about me that I find so much relief in a liquid housed in a can with a skull and the word death on it?

I drove back on Nine Pipe Rd with my new lens and snapped a few shots of geese and the mountains, and I came away both impressed and inspired. My camera can capture the world in a new way, and I want to keep shooting to see what else I can see. Unfortunately I won’t be able to this weekend because I have to write. I’m working on a new book idea, and I have to write it down to figure it out. I’m all but abandoning my last book because that mountain is one I no longer wish to climb. One of my problems is that I take too long to write my stories. My life changes too fast to stick with an idea I’m no longer interested in or have evolved away from, and these changes change the soul of the story enough that I always start over before I ever finish the original idea. It’s a problem, and I need to fix it.

My new lens arrived yesterday. It’s Fuji’s XF80mm Macro lens, and it’s great. I need to get used to the new focal length, but I can already see some fun uses for it. I’m excited!

I learned a new joke yesterday:

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Armageddon.

Armageddon who?

Armageddon tired of all your bullshit.

Yesterday, America set a new record of confirmed coronavirus cases. The previous one was set last Friday. Our school learned yesterday that one of our teachers tested positive for the virus. Meanwhile, Germany recorded a bit over 400 new cases yesterday. On Monday, ICE announced that foreign students in American colleges that have moved to online-only education will either have to transfer to a school that will offer in-person learning or risk getting deported. Schools across the nation have had to make up for budget shortfalls by both moving online and cutting budgets, and some of the casualties have been to athletics, specifically to non-football sports, like those done at the Olympics. What will an American future look like without immigrants getting their educations in this country and without our athletes representing us at the Olympics?

I love America. I love its story and its promise, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re all watching this country fall. While we’re endangering everyone by reopening schools and bars and restaurants and rejecting those who make this country better, other countries around the world—those with better leadership than ours, those who listened to science and to the experts—have handled the virus enough to safely start reopening parts of their countries. They have taken in immigrants from around the world, they have paid their citizens to stay home and to stay safe, they have provided them better and cheaper health care, and they will start returning to normalcy while we are fighting still both a pandemic and an infodemic.

When George Floyd plead for breath to the police over twenty times, officer Derek Chauvin replied by saying, “Then stop talking, stop yelling, it takes a heck of a lot of oxygen to talk.” America will fall not with a bang but with our own stupidity and hubris, our own Derek Chauvin with his knee across our neck telling us to stop talking while we plead for breath.

There’s potential evidence of community spread of COVID-19 in my county, which follows news from Tuesday of 80 new cases of the virus in the state, a record. This, in turn, follows news of Kanye West’s announcement that he will be running for president while the real president announced his plans to pull America out of the World Health Organization. The president of Brazil revealed that he tested positive for the virus, and on Monday I learned that Ennio Morricone had died. How could you live without fear in this timeline? When our leaders don’t care about our health and when so many of us aren’t taking the pandemic seriously?