There are few things in this life that I love more than seeing the reflection of light on water. I had a relaxing and enjoyable weekend at home catching up with old friends, eating good food, and taking in an intensely beautiful day. The heat I've been so antsy to feel showed up on Sunday at nearly 90 degrees. Sun, glorious sun! I spent some time by myself in a paddle boat, muscles working against the small waves, trying to reach the middle of a thousand birds that were cooling off in the lake that we shared. It was my very own "The Notebook" scene...Minus Noah and the rain...And I think they were crows instead of swans....But who cares about the details. I took my camera with me in effort to capture some of nature's beauty; I intend to hone my less than wonderful photographic skills.
Almost as much as I love studying the relationship between light and water, I thoroughly enjoy a good dose of the blues (the musical genre not the emotion). Why am I so drawn to the steady beat of the blues? I can't exactly say, but maybe it's the informal, carefree attitude that I channel by listening to some simple man singin' his simple words as he beats his hands against an old trash can. The music takes me to a place where tall shafts of wheat dance to the commands of a light breeze, a place where run down fords cruise through dusty roads that have somehow escaped asphalt, a place where voices sing "hold on, I'm comin'," but they start mumbling when they get to the part about how they're just not comin' any time soon...
It is a place where hidden streams lead to an undiscovered camp of bamboo shoots and open fields. In those open fields, if you're lucky enough to find them, there is a huge party that lasts as long as the birds sing. This is where the simple people are found, tapping out their beats, and expressing new lyrics. The lemonade never runs out and the light bulbs that are strung from tree to tree never die. The dogs that run wild go without flees and shoes aren't necessary, due to a lack of weeds or snakes or thorn bushes. The place is great. I see myself being very happy there, in my short flowy red dress and long curly hair and bare feet. I'm almost there...I can feel it. These toes are tapping and my body sways to the music that only I can hear. The breeze is real. It blows my hair and I can all but taste the sour lemon juice sliding down my thirsty throat. I spin and spin until I'm dizzy. I dance round and round with the other simple people and we laugh until our stomachs beg us to stop...Time to crawl in the back of that old run down ford and look at the stars in the midnight sky....I can still hear the music, but its sound is muffled through the bamboo forest. I cradle my heavy head in my hands and rest my right heel on top of my left big toe and try to count the tiny lights that dominate the upside down ground.