Freshly left ball

   I saw the tennis ball seen in the picture below as I strolled around Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park. I walk at a pretty swift pace (each one mile lap taking me about seventeen and a half minutes), and what interested me most about this object was the fact that I hadn't noticed it there the previous time around. When I say that I hadn't noticed it, I mean that I'm pretty certain that it hadn't been there before, and when I realized this, the time that had elapsed since I was last there became for me suddenly filled with possibilities.
   What had happened during my absence, and why the ball had been left there puzzled me a bit. I imagined it had belonged to a dog. and wondered why dog or owner had allowed the ball to be left there. Was this intentional, or was it an oversight, with neither animal realizing that something was now missing?
   I thought of all of the lives that were being lived, and about how big and supple the world must be to accommodate them all. I have for many years found myself amazed that mores and laws seemed to be enough to stop individuals from killing others haphazardly, and at this moment, in a similar vein, wondered how the earth doesn't buckle under the pressure of the population and its' movement.
   What I'm trying to convey, perhaps not so well, is my awe of the otherness of almost everything that I see. I find it sad and isolating, but also truly remarkable, precisely because of its' impenetrability  For me, one of the most wonderful things about life is all there is that I do not know, and never will. The opaqueness of the world allows my imagination and desire to interpret room to flourish.