Day by the River

Lucky me, got my personal day approved. Get to read a political theory book on Marxism all morning with a mug of coffee. All mine– except whenever random campers and river goers wandered over to me, or try to break into our lodge.

But after this coffee is gone, I’m completely out of liquid. We all woke up this morning to the water completely shut off. Something that has never happened. And of course something that happens on the day that I’m planning on spending all day at the campsite alone.

So I guess I’m going to have to venture out in an hour or so.

Because I have to go to the bathroom, and I can’t use the toilets.

And I’m getting thirsty for some water.

And I was upset about it at first, but now I realize that this is the best thing that could happen to me today.

Going to walk to Son of a Bean coffeeshop for the afternoon. Or at least to use the restroom and look at some good artwork on the walls. Talk to the owner who is from Fairbanks, Alaska.

But seriously, the timing.

Never been without water this year, yet. New first.

6:15 in the morning, sitting outside on the back porch guarding my little bottle of water, and sulking about my perfect day with a smudge in it. And a big old peacock comes up to me. And joins me.

These birds, man.

Just looking at me, cocking it’s head, looking at me with its one sided stare. And getting closer and closer as it gets braver, and I get more distracted.

“When I dance alone and the sun’s beating down, blame it on me” George Ezra


I finally went inside because I was freezing in the wind.

And went into the icebox of a lodge to shiver simultaneously jump around at the new ideas and words I was learning minute by minute from my books that I haven’t given myself a chance to swim in until today.

Hear a noise and look behind me.

Old man on a bike outside peering in the lodge window.

People don’t realize that this is our home. And it feels just like if I went up to your kitchen window and stuck my face in it during a walk through the neighborhood.

Staring in, waiting to be let it.


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