A Journal of Humor and Verbal Anarchy

 
StarPigeon's journey to the land of shadows

He listened to the distant rumble of steam shovels from afar. The crisp, cold air of the forest amplified every sound, even the careless dropping of a redeemable can in the woods, or that particular crunching noise that a $175.00 pair of Nikes made on dry leaves. StarPigeon was perfectly attuned to everything that was happening around him; his senses tingled with the sharpness of the hunter, fused with the lingering warmth of a container of Gimme coffee that he had downed prior to adjusting his head dress and entering the sacred domain of the Ancients.

They were digging in the place of the Elders, constructing a new 100,000 sq ft. Home Depot. StarPigeon glared in the direction of the machines whose metal claws were tearing at the hard pine-needle flecked ground once traversed by the Seers, the Gatherers and the legendary delivery men of the Cayuga Nation. His heart ached at the plunder and despoliation of this natural paradise, at the rapacity of the developers , the politicans and Chinese Buffet builders. Just that moment, he heard the familiar chirp of his cell phone going off. StarPigeon had programmed the ring to resemble the sound of a whippoorwill so as not to disturb the placid stillness of the forest.

"Pidgey, is that you?"

"Yes." His eyes followed the journey of a hawk as it glided above the tree line.

"Don't forget that you have to take the Explorer in for a brake alignment."

StarPigeon scowled. He was upset that StarSparrow would choose this time, knowing that he was communicating with the Spirits of the Old Ones, to bother him over something as mundane as the brakes on the Explorer.

"Ok. Anything else?"

"You've got an appointment with the acupuncturist at 2. "

"Ok."

"Honey?"

"Yes?" StarPigeon was fighting back the annoyance that he sensed was creeping into his voice.

"Don't forget to pick up the Tofu Lasagna at Greenstar. And a bottle of wine. The Reiks's are coming over tonight."

StarPigeon snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it deep into the pocket of his synthetic buckskin jacket. He glanced around the stand of trees dully. The moment of deep communion with the Ancients was gone. It was time to re-enter the fallen world of man again, the world of laptops, fax machines, dentist drills, SUV's teeming down Rt 13 towards the mall, nanotechnology, dinners with boring colleagues who knew nothing of the secret world he shared with the spirits of the forest.

He was StarPigeon. He lived in two worlds. One day he would turn his back on the world of brake alignments and office cubicles. He would allow his hair to grow longer, throw his cell phone into Cayuga Lake, exchange the ho hum life of a financial analyst at Smith Barney for the more alluring path of a seeker.

Then again, maybe he'd cash in his 401K and open up a canoe rental.


More later on the adventures of StarPigeon, alternative Ithacan, exclusively at Ithacasucks. Blogspot.com
Comments invited at: ezrakidder@gmail.com - Peace, Ezra at 2:37 PM