Dream noises

     Two and a half hours after snuggling in the arms of Morpheus, I'm dreaming.  The specifics of the dream leading up to the critical event elude me.  I'm at the top of a stairway with a sack of groceries in my arm; one of those brown paper sacks of old.  There is an abundance of canned goods in the bag and one falls out of the over stuffed sack, ripping the top of the bag just enough to allow another can to fall in pursuit of the first.  Then like a cascade, the cans hit the oak hardwood stairs with resounding bang, bang, booms. Over and over again until I approach wakefulness and the thought; wtf, I didn't have that many cans in the bag.

Groggily my eyes squint open and come to that fleeting realization of a dream fading and reality foggily establishing itself.  But wait; the cans are still banging down the steps; bang, boom, booooomm, bang, bang, boom.

I get up and open the bedroom door and come into the living room to witness Diane and Crystal watching the neighbor's setting off a spectacular fireworks display to rival Morristown's 4th of July fireworks.

" You missed it" they said.
"I can't believe you slept through all those explosions " Diane said.

Sleepily I replied, " I thought it was cans falling down the stairs!"

Peels of laughter echo off the camp walls, drowning out the sounds of tumbling canned goods.

0% chance of dying

On the "news" this week I saw a piece that said studies have shown that a person drinking one cup of coffee a day reduces their chance of dying by 13%. And if said person drinks 3 cups of coffee, their chance of dying is reduced by 18%.

Doing some extrapolation from "scientific" research I've seen published, I've come to the conclusion that if I drink 3 cups of coffee a day, imbibe 2 glasses of red wine, exercise for 30minutes a day, wear sunblock, establish a large social network, and meditate every morning after sleeping 7 1/2 hours I'll live forever.

Zen time of day

Waiting for the coffee to finish perking, I gaze at the shimmering surface of the early morning river.

A lone goose floats, motionless, as if moored twenty or so feet off shore from our boat launch.

Curious.  A lone goose?  Lost its mate, it's family?
Remarked just yesterday about the absence of the twice daily passing of the geese troop; up river in the morning and returning at dusk; going who knows where.

I examine the river's edge as well as the neighbors lush lawn. No sign, no movement to indicate other life.

Then she comes, his mate, seemingly out of the ether.  She swims ever so slowly to him who is firmly anchored. She gets approval to approach the shore.

Each, slowly, oh so imperceptibly slowly begin to get closer to the edge of the boat launch.

I unlock and open the noisy door and step out on to the cool dew moistened lawn. The two visitors halt their advance, turn and with slow determination, move out toward open water.

Out of the corner of my eye, movement on the neighbor's lawn.  A gaggle of 12 to 15 geese waddle to the sea wall and jump into the water and soon join the two "scouts" I had seen reconnoitering our feeding grounds.

Ahhh, the coffee is done.
               The Blue Heron glides by;
             A few feet above the glassy surface.
A gull dives. Emerging with crayfish firmly clasped in it's beak.

The Zen time of day.