I miss the Dragons…
I miss the dragons.
What does that mean?
Well, imagine it’s Saturday or Sunday morning (I can’t recall which at the moment, but I believe it is Saturday)… and you hear the noises of the world as the sun comes up.
A few years ago, this sound was “whoooooosh” along the lines of what you would hear from a dragon huffing in his cave. (Obviously, my dragon is a cave dragon)
It was comforting. It was reassuring. It meant the sun was up, and the sky was clear. I knew what the day was going to be like before I even had to open my eyes.
How is this?
Well, when I lived in Boulder, I lived in “Twin Lakes” which meant, quite literally the two lakes across from my house. Of course the view to the lakes (or lake in my view) was mostly obscured by the surrounding trees, but it was still nice. And right near our house was the best field for the Hot Air ballooners to lift off from.
The would only be out on days that were clear, and they would be out there to greet the sun.
Which means, I would hear the whoosh of them filling the balloons and taking off.
Every weekend now, I think of that, as here in Colorado Springs.. I do not hear the dragons.. I instead hear the mighty shrill call of the scavenging beast.
For some reason this great beast hunts in the territory around my house also at dawn… before the hour of 7 even… Which means in winter, before the sun even starts to kiss the sky.
Why the hell does the garbage truck come before 7 am on a freaking Saturday?
This boggles my mind.
The rest of the week, when the mighty scavenger comes around, it’s in the middle of the afternoon, and there are days I have to have a territory showdown to get to my parking space. If you show fear, it will attack. Remain calm, calculate just how much you can inch your own mighty steed (or Tortoise in my case) past it’s mighty hind-quarters, or wait for it to finish foraging and to move on to the next food stash it has.. all the while of course gnashing your teeth to show that you are not giving in and allowing it to take over your territory, but instead have chosen to not fight that day.
But the Saturday morning I think bothers me the most, as it does not tell me at all how the day is. It does not give that comforting whuffle of a happy dragon. It’s call is shrill and annoying…
I miss my dragons.
And this is where I shall leave it today. I am not kidding.. Though I will not discuss those ancient and nightmarish birds that some modern people have named “ghetto birds”. Those of course are left for another day.
Off to go read more Key Lime Pie Murder (Joanne Fluke) and also work on my stitches.
I promise, I promise, I will post about Repo soon.