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It began four days ago. The doorbell rang, followed by a brawny lineman wearing a hard hat who attached black placards to our front door knobs. We learned that –

“AT&T is bringing our fiber network technology to your neighborhood! With AT&T fiber, the future of the internet is here!”

We also learned that with this technology, we can expect: “Ultra-fast internet starting with a 1000 Mbps connection, speeds 20times faster than the average cable customer, a reliable connection with less waiting or buffering, and a better Wi-Fi experience with expanded coverage and support for all your devices.”

On the flipside of the placard, we learned that crews would need access to easement areas in our back yards.

With the placards in place, bucket trucks, pick-ups, and other trucks with hitches rolled into our neighborhood and the work began. More linemen from Universal Communications scaled ladders, mounted bucket trucks, attached more power lines to the existing poles. Grunts and shouts accompanied the work, with frequent adjustments to their hard hats.

All of this wearies me. True, information is valuable, however we receive it, but who says it must is be continually accelerated? Already, the globe suffers from psychic and physical constipation—a frightening engorgement of the psyche that buries spirit, the wellsprings of life. No matter that EMFs fry us, as well.

Yesterday’s AT&T telemarketer underscored this condition. Ostensibly offering me still more services, her voice wobbled with exhaustion. She, too, was weary.




Quack-quack-quack-quack-quack! There they go again, the mallard in the lead up the slope toward a neighbor’s front yard. Orange webbed feet list from side to side like tipsy seamen on leave. But perhaps these ducks are tipsy.


Motorists stop as they meander across streets; joggers pause as the ducks sun on the creek bottom; mothers pushing strollers step aside; business men gawk as they parade down sidewalks, their quacks in lockstep with their careening.

It wasn’t always this way. For years we’ve followed their life cycle–spring migration, pre-nesting, nesting, brood rearing, post breeding, molting, and fall migration–all within the confines of the private pond in our neighborhood.

What to make of this anomaly disorienting our ducks, compelling them to leave their shaded refuge in favor of our streets? Perhaps harmful electromagnetic frequencies from the looming cell tower nearby, from our handheld computerized devices, from our hybrid cars, from power lines and transformers, to mention a few.

Lest I lose my orientation like the ducks and traverse barren paths inimical to my individuation, I must stay focused upon the next right step, thereby sacrificing the less than, however attractive. Such discernment works!


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