Hangin' out

After a long day of work, there's nothing like lying in a hammock. So today, after I interviewed several people for the article I'm writing, then re-ran and re-calibrated the irrigation system for the garden (argh!), that's exactly what I did.

Our hammock is an old, mouse-eaten contraption that I bought in the market in San Jose, Costa Rica, back in 1993. The s.o. hung it up in the woods early this spring, and it has become a destination in and of itself.

When I lie there, the view upwards is of pieces of sky and cloud, dissected by sun-dappled boughs of pine, oak, and sweetgum. Below me is the dog, who likes to lie on the cushiony dry pine needles directly underneath the hammock and chew sticks. When the wind kicks up, the trees sway, and so do I.

Sometimes I bring a novel with me, and sometimes I bring a pillow with the intent of doing some serious napping. Today I just lay there and looked up. When I was young, I was the kind of kid who always had a fort in the woods. So somehow this seems very right to me.