Thursday, July 22, 2010

Last night, after an eleven-hour day at work packing product for the Bellevue Arts Fair, I laid out on my back porch in the dark and looked at stars with my binoculars. Cedar trees scented the warm air, and the cats sashayed about me, telling me their little cat stories in various squeaks and mewls. Paul sat just inside at the kitchen table, watching a Van Morrison video on You Tube, a bottle of Casal Garcia Portuguese rose´uncorked on the counter. I considered sleeping outside on my $20 plastic-strap lounger (which unfortunately often folds me up inside it if I'm not careful) but then also considered the family of raccoons that frequents our back porch, as well as the local night-roaming coyotes. The cats, who almost certainly would alert my sleeping self to the presence of critters, would most likely flee if a feral canine attempted to nibble on my toes. And then the mosquitos would make a midnight snack of any exposed skin. Alas, I retreated to my most civilized bed, but longed for that ceiling of stars above me.

5 comments:

  1. Ah, summer in the countryside!

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  2. when we were young and did not consider these practical things, we indeed slept under the stars. We woke up wet from dew, insect bitten, and sometimes were awakened in the middle of dreams by wild creatures that posed some danger.

    Give me a nice soft bed with a skylight and open windows (with screens) any day of the week. It is lovely to breathe the night air and listen to the sounds of frogs, crickets and other creatures.

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  3. Mother Nature...romantic in the abstract, uncomfortable in reality!
    I remember watching Joanna Lumley spend ten days stranded on a desert island...killed any silly notion of ever doing that

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  4. this makes me think of the book The Salamander Room..a children's book. look it up :)

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  5. sleep, wherever we find it--it's good. I'm going to go eat a full meal of it right now.

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