Mice

"The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse" is one of Aesop's fables,

one that has stuck with me since childhood.

The "moral of the story" is an important facet to a fable,

for this particular tale we're supposed to surmise that security is preferable to opulence,

but that isn't important here.

for me this tale finds itself in the swamps of self-discovery,

mainly:

am I a city mouse, or a country mouse?

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on a fiscal level I'm trying to be a musician, I should be in The City, end of story...

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unfortunately I have no respect for the fiscal level

the feeling I get when I see an animal carries more weight.  my whole aura perks and I transform back into a child.

(oh. my. God. it's a Rabbit/Hawk/Horse/Cow/Fox/Turkey LOOK! shhhh...do you see him?)

or the way my neck muscles relax by simply gazing out at the ocean.

natural. inclinations.

for now the remedy has been the Coast:

busy summers fill up with Tourists and we rock out for them

the winters empty, leaving a residue of weird artists and grizzled locals.

this may all be moot.  maybe the answer is to keep moving.  there is a lot to see.