There are new bugs singing in the fields tonight. I cannot place them. Not crickets, not locusts, not little froggy peepers. They are trilling.
The fog rolled in off the field tonight. My parents and the girls and I sat in the living room then went outside to watch it. It creeped up the field and across the road into my yard. It was a fantastic sight to watch. I could not get a good photo. I called it landclouds and the girls and my step-dad stood on the porch and made foghorn noises.
It was good my parents were here tonight as I have been having that single lonely melancholy feeling lately. Sometimes I wonder why I dream so desperately of something I’m not even sure that I really do want? I know it is ridiculous sounding.
Love and passion and relationships are so complicated and I don’t know what I would do at the first sign of conflict in one, probably run screaming. I’ve had my fair share and then some of conflict.
And so I have had bad dreams the last three out of four nights. The first night actually dreaming I had died and was recalling it on the other side. That and a stomach virus the last few days have not helped my mood much. Bad dreams are not so much the bad part. It’s been my reaction. Last night, I actually went downstairs and slept part of the night on the couch because I was uneasy being in my bed. The bed has brought sickness, bad dreams, melancholy.
That is when it is nice to have that dear family again, telling you how well you are doing and being proud.
So thank you parents who are proud, thank you trilling bugs for making me some music tonight, thank you landclouds for taking my mind away for awhile and thank you nice comfy couch because I’m not ready to go up to that big, big empty bed, yet tonight.