What you see is not what you get?

It was a gorgeous spring day in the valley. For now, I will conveniently ignore that precipitation this year has been significantly below average--well on our way to break the record since the systematic collection of data that began in 1892!  I will simply be Polyannaish and enjoy the phenomenal weather that nature is offering.

Stop to smell the roses, they say.  Despite the allergy risk, that is what I did when I came upon this tree blossoms:

The circle of life that spring time reminds us.  Regeneration. There is hope, even though only two months ago it was a grey landscape.  The burst of colors and the green shoots on trees and plants have only begun.

The bottom-line for humans that there is no second act in life doesn't seem to apply to nature, I thought to myself.  Trees and plants that looked so dead only a few weeks ago are so much alive now.  Perhaps that is what this bird was also contemplating about:

I wondered where all the kids were--it is spring break for them too, and they were not out on the bike path on such a day?  Were they watching TV and playing video games and missing out on all these?  Why were only the oldies, and me, walking about?

Sometimes, I wish that I didn't think about anything at all.  Why bother about such things, I ask myself.  Who cares if the kids are growing up messed up, or if there hasn't been enough rains, or whatever.  The fate of humans and this cosmos doesn't depend even one nano bit on what I think.  I might as well give up.

But, I don't listen to these inner voices.  I continue to think.  My neighbor might conclude that I am wasting my time.  Thinking is so internal. Watching paint dry might be more exciting than watching a person think.  Unless, that thinking is captioned with cartoonish pop-up bubbles.  Ah, but then Monty Python already explored the unsexiness of thinking in their soccer championship!

I spotted a couple seated on a bench and engrossed in a conversation.  They looked young. The woman seemed like she had a hijab on.  A colorful one.  Perhaps a scarf?  But, it wasn't worn like a scarf.  It was a hijab.

But, wait, is that smoke coming from her face?  A woman wearing a hijab and smoking a cigarette?  That is quite a sight. I decide to take a detour and check the couple out at closer quarters to verify that it was a hijab and she was smoking.

Indeed!  They were talking in some strange language and in low tones.

The man didn't look even moderately  handsome.  She was no beauty either.

But then very few among us are awesome looking.  Most of us are bland. Boring. Even ugly.  The cosmos couldn't care for how we look.

In our teens, most of us are worried most only about our looks. The pimple on my nose that wouldn't go away haunted me during my high school years. I worried that no girl would ever give me a second look. Especially that girl.

Now, I care very little about how I look. The advantage that age offers. Who cares a shit anymore!

What? I am already home?  Thinking makes five miles go by so easily!

Later in the evening, on my way back from the grocery store, the western horizon looked fantastic with the colors. As risky as it was, I snapped a photo even as I continued to drive. YOLO!