I opened my eyes and looked at my watch.
It was 3:49 p.m.
Lying on the alcove couch, a story gelled in my mind.
Living close to a city dump everyday, I would watch a fleet of city garbage trucks.
Heavily loaded, they struggled to climb a steep hill. To make it, they had to shift in low gear, making a grinding noise resonating through the canyon.
You saw them but you couldn’t hear them.
Reaching the top, they drove a short distance to a smelly field, tilted their load, which slid off.
Repulsed by the sounds and smells, they couldn’t wait to get out of the area.
They had their load “signed off” by a guy wearing a mask, turned around and headed downhill.
They had done their job.
The load they dumped was food for the chattering birds.
Squawking wildly, vultures, falcons, hawks surrounded me.
I quickly got in my car. I saw a site I had never seen, nor will ever forget.
(August 23, 2022)