近距离内射合集

Once an Albuquerque dweller, I now live in the mountains of northern New Mexico.

I happened to be in town over the Fourth of July weekend. I was somewhat curious to watch the fireworks on the 250th anniversary of the country. I was staying at a retreat center on a plateau south of town. At first I was cautious, remembering with trepidation those COVID years when neighbors used fireworks every night to offset boredom. It only served to further upset our public peace and traumatize pets, birds and wildlife.

So I set out to watch the spectacle, which began around 8 p.m. There were fireworks from all four directions and all along the dry riverbed and the dark bosque. They lit up the skies east to west and across the city. There were startling kabooms, like flash-bangs, in neighborhoods all around me.

Two hours later, at 10 p.m., usually the agreed-upon city sound curfew, the fireworks and flash-bangs were going full speed ahead. I began to become agitated. I went inside. I realized that wild animals can鈥檛 hide, since sounds and visual displays are without any filters in their nighttime habitat.

I thought of veterans and immigrants escaping war zones; animals with highly sensitized hearing and sight and nocturnal habits; humans whose nervous systems are already stressed, overloaded or neurodivergent. Fireworks can be highly triggering. I know friends who instruct immigrants fleeing war zones on how to live through a night of fireworks. I have war veteran friends who leave town for the remote solace of mountains on July Fourth, so as not to be flooded by PTSD.

It is midnight and the fireworks and flash-bangs are still full blast. It is a dopamine-driven, culturally addicted, steroidal nightmare. A mechanized, robotic carnival stuck on high-speed. A horror show, and one can鈥檛 turn down the volume or switch the channel.

I read an article by National Geographic about a study of fireworks. Scientists are reporting a growing body of evidence on the various ways that fireworks afflict wildlife. It triggers disorientation, visual disturbances and a fight-or-flight panic response. Such disruption causes injury and even death 鈥� especially of young birds. Some cities have started swapping displays with drone shows to reduce noise and wildfire risk 鈥� but even that causes a disturbance.

The human species is remarkably adaptive, but we come up short in our ability to be empathetic and compassionate with other sensitive beings or species that can鈥檛 adapt to our habits and entertainment needs. We have evolved very little when it comes to our self-serving desires and need for pleasure and entertainment. We have not learned the value of limits.

In a time when the West is on fire, all our forests on high alert and the Rio Grande is dry as a bone due to the Faustian bargains humans have struck, it seems to be a good time to reconsider our habits and circuses on this planet that we share. Can we show some respect, humility and restraint as we practice being good neighbors for each other, our forests, rivers, wild ones and furry companions?

A.F. Amstutz is a writer, counselor and teacher who lives in Taos.