showers while flying
Somewhere in the middle of the night I thought I heard rain softly falling on the condominium complex roof. It could have been dreaming. But, sure enough, there were puddles all over when I left for this morning’s morning walk. Not long into my walk the sky began misting so heavily that only a weatherman (or weatherwoman) would have said it wasn’t raining. I got wet and my most gigantic concern was that my phone would become soaked in my pocket and cease to function – me with no bags of rice on hand – which could mean no calls to and from my Sweetie, a thought too terrible to consider even a second. Fortunately, the phone remains filled with color.
While walking in the misty rain I was aware of a number of birds scooting and slicing through the life-giving air in front of me, as I walked along, and the way they were squiggling and twisting their bodies I had the distinct sense that they were – each one of them – taking a shower. Showers while flying. I suppose I kind of was too – fully-clothed shower while strolling, broken-phone terror notwithstanding.
Oh – here’s two other Monday morning items. Yesterday, Sunday morning, I felt one of my art books in a pile on the top of bookcase whisper to me – “Pic me, pic me” – and when I picked it up I saw paperwork sitting underneath. Paperwork in the form of a Summons for Jury Duty – for last Thursday! Ooops. Fortunately, my first thought was what story could I share with the Court as to my skipping this citizen’s requirement, and the ‘once upon a time’ dancing into my mind was to say I was all ready to do this fun civic duty when, while walking my cat late last Tuesday night, I was kidnapped by pirates, and only released Sunday morning. I truly dig that story and there’s a lot of me wanting to share it with whatever Court official lucky enough to answer my call. Still, there’s bench warrants and stuff, so I’ll probably go with option two.
And – #2 item – then there is wondering how the summons found it’s way under not one but two books. Even my ditsy brain feels grounded enough to keep that sort of mail where I’d see it every day. Here’s what I think. While I sleep my books play. Little stuff like switching places, maybe even five spaces away, on the book shelf. And they fly. My books flying around the room, thrilled to be so free and fun-loving, like how it was when the bell rang for recess and you could run out of the school building onto the rather endless playground. Sweet.
If I’m not in the pokey, I’ll tell you how the call goes tomorrow. Yeah, the one about the tsetse fly.
Cool – lots of flying in this story.