Just about every morning, I go for a walk. One of my routes is down from our house to the beach, then up to the top of the hill by the cell phone tower, then back down to our house. It’s about a 2 mile trip and a pretty good cardio workout. Yesterday it was also a trip into another reality with a mental workout.
On my way down to the beach, I run into a Rasta with 5 cows. Two he has on leashes. I can’t resist.
“Taking your cows for a walk?” I ask.
“No, mon,” he replies, “Takin dem to da beach for a swim.”
“Cows can’t swim,” I remind him. Who knows, maybe I can save a cow’s life. Maybe he has smoked too much ganja. What do I know?
“I swim. Dey jus watch,” he answers.
“They like to watch you swim?” I ask, holding back my smile.
“Dey like to see da sea too, ya know,” he tells me.
“Ok.” I say, not being able to think of a better response.
We reach the beach. The Rasta strips off his shirt and runs into the sea. The cows linger. I watch. The sun comes up over the bluff and shines brightly on us all. “Yahoo” yells the Rasta from the sea. “Moo,” says one of the cows. “Moo,” answers another.
“You too,” say I, as I turn for my long walk up the hill.
I reach the top, huffing and puffing, and just as I turn for the downward walk home, I run into this goat. She is standing in the middle of my path, just staring down at the sea. “Bah,” she says to me. “Humbug,” I manage to say between gasps for air. Two minutes later, I run into a donkey. He is mute. “Good morning,” I say. He just shakes his head. I keep moving.
Just before I get home, I see one of my neighbors heading off to work. “Good morning,” I say. “Bah humbug,” he replies. “What?” I am stunned. I stop. “I feel like going to the beach, not work today,” he explains. “Long weekend starts tomorrow, ” I say, hoping to offer some consolation. I am still thinking of my conversation with the goat. “Yeah, it’ll be a zoo in town today with everyone rushing around to get stuff done before the weekend,” he replies.
I arrive home. “Meow,” our Siamese greets me at the door. “I already fed you,” I tell him. “Meeeoow,” he repeats. “No, I am not taking you to the beach,” I reply, “ask the Rasta, maybe he’ll take you.”
I put on the coffee and turn on my computer. Collect my emails. First one I open says, “We really need a holiday and some beach time. We were thinking of coming to visit you.”
Ok. That’s it. I can take the hint. I’ll pack a few beers into the cooler, take my new book and go back to the beach. You just can’t fight the first full moon after the vernal equinox. Spring is here and so is spring fever. Sandra can come too if she wants, but not the cat.