He awoke, every morning, to the sounds of the roaring creek outside his window. The streaming waters rushed by with more volume at the beginning of the day, as if to wash away the previous one's ills and miscalculations. That this sound re-introduced him daily to the world imprinted on his thoughts and perceptions. Instead of gathering at a single point to observe then move on, his mind flowed constantly from one idea to the next. He didn't think much about the past or even the present. When in constant motion, neither exist. There is only before you, near you and under you. For most of us, the future seems abstract, as if we sometimes didn't expect it to happen. Not the case for him. He knew he would encounter the future because he existed right at its precipice, constantly speeding away from past events, heading, bobbing, swimming towards what lay ahead.
He took to his tasks with the same qualities. His calling was the thousands of cherry trees growing in the orchard just outside his door. He didn't see the empty pails waiting to be filled with the sweet, red morsels. Nor did he see trees teeming with ripe fruit, ready for his gathering. Instead, he saw only individual cherries popping from the tree into his hand. Each garnet, with its rosy skin and firm, yet curved rump received his undivided attention. His thumb would smooth over the shiny reddened surface, aware of the plumpness of its meat just beneath. After spending several seconds with each plucked cordial, bringing it to his nose where he ingested its delicious ripe perfume, he would carefully drop it into the wooden bucket hanging from his belt. He arose in the morning only for the purpose of receiving the visual kiss from each delectable cherry he selected. And so it went everyday, and everyday it went so.
Come Winter, his task changed from assembling to caretaking. Again, instead of the endless numbers of dormant trees, he saw only the cradles where the new fruit would blossom in the Spring. He pruned and groomed every branch and trunk, taking great care to remove any detritus that had amassed over the year, ensuring his longed for companions would have no obstacles to their bountiful arrival.
And yet, even though they were absent during the long, cold gray months, he steeled himself by visiting each and every blushing, burgundy buttocks in his mind, always with the understanding that they would return.
So it went everyday, and everyday it went so.