little purpose

Right now I'm taking care of a big empty house. It’s only this light, cool blue color, and to walk from one end to the other takes a whole minute. The man who owns this big blue empty house broke his neck awhile ago and had no one to take care of him. Now he’s in Florida to see his elderly mother.

The big blue empty house looks out past a clear-cut meadow onto the West. Today the clouds are lined with red, like a jam-butter seeping out of a pastry fold. Sun shines and dims on sections of land one at a time. The wind is strong, very strong, way stronger than most wind in this area. Because the forest around it was clear-cut, there’s nothing for the wind to bristle against. All it does now is sweep hard and fast. The houses on this road are Designed, especially with the view in mind, and Privacy. They are Large and Spacious, Sturdy. They don’t whistle like houses here tend to. Everything is quiet, most dogs don’t even bark. The only exception is an old brown farmhouse—correction: two, across the road from each other. Cars are everywhere around the two brown farmhouses, old beaters. And their beef cows stand on a mound of dirt. Their dogs are the ones that bark. They've been on this road longer than anyone, digging their heels in. 

This is one of the few places in the area with a view—the land is usually so clouded by trees and dense forest, all closed in on. It feels open in an unusual way out here, like you can breathe. But then the wind makes you all cold and sends a chill up your spine. Go inside.

Marcus A said everything ought to be directed toward a goal—even the smallest things. The goal of rational beings is to follow the rule and law of the most ancient of communities and states. He said the human soul degrades itself when it allows its action and impulse to be without purpose, to be random and disconnected. I got to thinking, maybe marrying the old man who lives here would give me some of that. He broke his neck awhile ago and had no one to take care of him. His children live far away, they're older than me. And he had this house built with all of these double features, a double sink, double garage, lots of seating. maybe I could help these features, see they have no use without someone, we could do each other this favor. The man is nice enough, somewhat boring, apparently Jewish. I could spend the rest of his days here, all peaceful, taking care, in our fortress. Listening to the wind. 

This morning I took the dog out into the meadow. The wind was blowing real strong but the sun was out so I laid down on the grass. First on my back but then I rolled onto my side so the sun didn’t shine so directly into my eyes. I laid there for a while, looking at the grass through a few strands of blonde hair that fell over my eyes. I wove a few blades in between my fingers. I lifted my head up to check on the dog, but I couldn’t see her. I walked over to look across the meadow and then around the whole house. I found her with a bone in her mouth and love in her eyes. I walked with her a bit as she shopped around for a good place to lay it down. It was a slow process, she tends to meander a bit. Finally, with the little bone in her mouth, she dug a little hole at the base of a baby douglas fir in the old man’s garden, real shallow. She let it down into the hole, and then used her nose to push the dirt back over it, all slow and methodical. It took her a few minutes, but when she had finally moved all the dirt in a way she deemed satisfactory she patted it a few times with her paw. I told her that was a very nice place for it and a very good thing she just did, making sure it’s all safe and everything. C’mon now, it’s time to go back inside. She wagged her tail and followed close behind me.