Possum Covered Strawberries and Other Underappreciated Things.

Possums are marsupials. I don’t know if this is a good thing or bad thing, but it is uniquely theirs, at least as far as this continent goes. I have read that they are clean, and I have no reason to doubt this. They are not cute pretty, nor are they butt ugly and I have always waffled on how best to characterize this own particular brand of beauty. I have never held one, but I suppose if I did, I could form a more concrete opinion on how I view them. I know this worked with babies so one could assume that it would work with a possum as well.

I was once told that to have one as a pet is a big no-no without some form of special permission. Since I don’t know anyone with a Possum Permit and I am aware they have razor sharp teeth, I will not be picking one up at random anytime soon. So, the holding of a possum is out of the question for now. But, since the reason I am postulating positively on the possum this morning is for the sake of the possum, let’s just err on their side and say they possess a beauty that is uniquely theirs. A beauty that can only be seen by their mama’s and those that truly believe. Count me among the latter.

They play dead and hang by their tails. On the former I think this is probably because, despite having a whole bunch of teeth, they are slow afoot and are ill equipped for self defense. They go out of their way to be left alone and when done so, provide more good than harm. In this respect they live in a world that mimics our own. The weakest among us are many times the easiest of targets and for no reason but the fact that they are. The weakest among us are also the ones that tend to steal a bigger part of our hearts. Most of us anyway. Actions contrary to this contradiction say a lot about a lot of things, in particularly as it applies to behavior.

When I see a possum, I am not always sure of what I am supposed to do or not do but I never take advantage of my perceived superiority. I have found that this is a good way of going about a lot of things as it relates to, well, all things. As the Beatles once said just let it be. On the latter, the hanging by their tails, I don’t know much about why this is so, and I really don’t want to. The curiosity in mystery is better left to be on this one.

They must be pretty smart. They have a lot going against them, yet they are still here. Far more capable creatures have not fared as well. It would not surprise me if one day the possum is granted more protection than it currently holds. We tend to force ourselves into such actions. Learning from the errors of our ways is not a thing that we humans tend to fully embrace. For now, for me anyway, I will henceforth do my part in promoting positively and promulgating all things possum.

I am now going to do a full circle back to the pictures with only a slight detour. I am not sure why I regressed into the whole possum thing. I don’t doubt there to be a better reason but the one I am going to offer up is that this is just how these things go. The mood of the morning, the amount of coffee, the choice of music, etc. all tend to drive my ramblings. I think more and more I am avoiding much of what I no longer enjoy in this world and one way of doing this is to lose myself in a moment. Anymore this is through writing. Either for myself, for someone or for everyone. As I teach myself to write I learn more about myself. I am teaching me by teaching me.

I can honestly say that I have no clue as to what inspired Heather to title her exhibit “Underappreciated Friends” but I tend to think that it is more or less along the lines of my dragging the poor possum along for the ride this morning: Sometimes we need just need to go out of our way to show appreciation. In the case of Heather, I know without a doubt that The Burg is much better place since she came to town. If you had told me a few years ago that what this town needed was more chickens and possums my reaction, depending on the setting, would probably have been framed in some form of my normal smart ass self. Today, I don’t want to imagine a Burg without chickens and possums. Such is the power of Mountain Muse.

I enjoy these exhibits at the MAC immensely. I hope they one day provide a more intimate setting for displaying the talent of this area but for now it works just fine. I get to see creativity that brings me joy, I get to see people who I don’t always get to see, and I get to, in some small way, say Thank YOU!

BTW – I did not eat one of the possum covered strawberries or the chickens themed sweets last night. I usually don’t. I always feel I am being watched.