Monday, August 13, 2012

of a feather

After grading papers for 4 hours on Friday, 8 hours on Saturday, 12 hours on Sunday, and 4 hours today: I was ready for a break.

I mowed my front lawn. It was 90 and humid. I live in Maine, so this is hot hot hot. I jumped in my car and went to the pond.

Lawn chair, magazines, and deserted beach = bliss. Ok, the lawn chair is coming undone and half my posterior sags like a woman's face after a stroke. The magazine is the Christmas issue; I'm catching up.  No time to read during the school year. Christmas. Reminds me of the annoying commercialism and cloying temporary good cheer of December. Deserted beach is bliss.

I read, swim, and do Reiki & asanas on the beach. Loons start to call frantically. End of season party? Graduation or wedding? They continue to ululate.

A man says, (OK, the beach is nearly, not totally deserted) "There's an eagle! There's a bald eagle over by the loons. That's why they're calling."

I sit up and put on my distance glasses. The sun feels good on my skin. My suit is drying. I look over at the tall maples and pines. I can see three loons on the water and possibly an alien shape in the trees. Oh yes, it flaps. The loons continue to call. The big shape flaps away. Crisis averted, I go back into the water.