Domestic Patriarch and I settled in to a cool evening to watch "Grizzly Man", the story of a socially unbalanced man who spends 35 years living with Alaskan Grizzlies after he loses the bartender part from"Cheers" to Woody Harrelson. It was fascinating, and prompted the Lady ponder which pack of animals she might stalk while squatting on federally protected property.
Well by George of course it's the Snowy Plover!
Job Searching is a bit like being a l'il plover. Packs of them run towards the water only to run in the absolute opposite direction once the water is about to touch them. Then they do it again. And again. Good Luck finding anything more innocently hilarious in the Wild Kingdom!
I relate to this bird in more ways that one - endlessly searching the same job sites again and again and not quite knowing why, the near rote revision of my resume every 2 days, occasionally getting fed, being most physically active in the winter only to laze out past April, the skinny legs and the balloon like torso, the ability to book it down the beach when I put my mind to it and of course being generally the wee-est in relation to all around you.
So, there has got to be a method to the madness of the Plovers? Nature must have some Master Plan for these tiny things beyond eating sandcrabs or existing as the second funniest looking creature to run around the beach ( First being the Lady). I'm not sure why I keep doing these things every morning, but something's telling me I should.
Perhaps I too, should apply the "run and pause" technique while looking for (professional) nourishment. Today, I pause. But I can't help but feel I have much to learn from the plover, or at least the knowledge that even the plovers might do the dumb things they gotta do while not having any idea what's goin' on. And maybe that's okay too.
If I ever seriously lose it and eschew civilization all together you'll probably find me with a bottle of wine, a jar of nutella and Pugsley in a pup tent on the sand spit in Morro Bay as the Plover Council attempts to vote me off the Island.
Perhaps I too, should apply the "run and pause" technique while looking for (professional) nourishment. Today, I pause. But I can't help but feel I have much to learn from the plover, or at least the knowledge that even the plovers might do the dumb things they gotta do while not having any idea what's goin' on. And maybe that's okay too.
If I ever seriously lose it and eschew civilization all together you'll probably find me with a bottle of wine, a jar of nutella and Pugsley in a pup tent on the sand spit in Morro Bay as the Plover Council attempts to vote me off the Island.
I've long feared crossing paths with a boozy, murderous snowy plover...you're saying I LIVE with one now?!!!
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