I dreamt I was on a raft floating in a tranquil small pond. Such a peaceful dream I didn’t want to wake from. It took hours before sleep graced me with her presence, the drumming of the rain on the nylon tent walls a deafening kind of torture. I tried to find joy in the rain, the way it can make all the colors in our world more vibrant, glistening and sparkly. How the tree branches drip a rhythmic tune. As the day faded away my revelry with rain was replaced with sheltering in the tent with a wet dog. In the morning when Rider’s nudges finally woke me and tore me from my tranquil dream I realized may dream had somewhat come true. Rider and I huddled in a snuggle on my sleeping pad were “floating” on a dry island in a completely swamped tent! That’s when the deep melodic voice of Greg Brown popped into my head….”Why don’t you just go home?”…..eventually….
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