A Sea of Stars

There was enough of a break in the rain today for me to mow the hay pasture my yards had become.   I didn't track it up too badly.  There is a great deal of satisfaction to be had at the end of that process, riding back up the driveway and looking over the smooth green.  The house doesn't look like "whitetrash" lives here anymore, so I feel much better.  Also, Yelldo won't get lost in the bahaia and have to do dolphin impressions as he explores the yard to keep up with the much taller Roux.  It's good all the way around.

When I finished, it was fairly late, but several hours of cool daylight remained, one of the beautiful things about summer in the South.  I put away the Husqvarna, got out the hammock and all the things that go with it, and hung it under the tulip poplars to watch the day fade.  It was wonderful.

I stayed there until 9:30 or so, reading until the stars started to appear.  I ate supper there, listening to the sound of the chorus of the night that sings from the pasture edge.  I watched a few random fireflies.  And when the stars finally appeared, I cut off all my lights and just pushed myself gently back and forth tracing patterns in the heavens above me through the gaps in the canopy of night-dark leaves.  Absolutely wonderful. That hammock is money better and better spent every time I go out and get in it.