-Snugg-'s photostream  

...are premium places to perfect one's meditation techniques.

I was loath to go onto one after my wetness of a few weeks, but when I saw that the pads were strong enough to hold not only my monkey friend Spike, but also a Nikon D7000 we happened across, I figured I'd be safe. After a little while I even got so comfortable that I found myself clearing my mind a bit (if not with such grace as Spike--but then again, how can I expect to have as much meditative style as a monkey?).

Also, folks, my very good friends over at Fiddle Oaks just made themselves a Flickr presence! I'm really excited to see what they're going to do, so please give them a warm welcome. :]

Whenever I am staying in an apartment building, the first thing I look for is roof access. Where I am staying now, in Florida, I can look out over the city on one side and the ocean on the other. I keep waiting for someone to look up at me so I can wave to them, but they never do.

The lovely thing about falling in the river and being soaking wet and terrified of turning moldy is that you get to sit out in the sun all day. It's really fascinating to just sit and watch the sky on a hazy summer afternoon, that I just couldn't help but stay on into evening... and then night (notice how around 9 o'clock all the city lights turn off?). By dawn, I realized that I'd been sitting there all night and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.

But, save for some dew, I think I'm dry now. :]

(please watch it in HD, folks, if your computer is able!)

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Edit: Explore #24 and front page! Wootbag!

Imagine, dear reader, that you are a stuffed pup. Now pretend for a moment that it is early evening towards the end of July. You are sitting at the bank of the river, watching dragonflies bounce around on the surface of the water, which glows a hazy orange from the setting sun.

For the sake of conjecture, let's say there is a wooden swing on the bank of the river. We can imagine it to be just your size. Picture yourself swinging on it--back and forth and back and forth and back and forth--maybe for minutes, maybe for hours; you can't tell, and it doesn't matter.

But what if, all of a sudden, one rope of the swing gave out, way up at the top. Before you can say "tamale" you're in the river, with weeds around you, floating downstream. You can feel your hypothetical stuffing getting soggier and soggier.

And then let's say a human jumps into the river to save you. Picture yourself being brought up onto the dry rocks, your limbs being wrung out, you watching the drips cascade down from your paws and splash on the lichen.

After all this pretend-commotion you are very relieved that the imaginary human's hypothetical new Nikon D7000 is intact, and you are happy to have some toasty tamales while you wait for your stuffing to stop smelling like the river. And, hopefully, the human's waterlogged cell-phone (which may or may not be drying out in front of a hypothetical air-conditioner at this very moment) will someday decide to work again. Hypothetically.

With enough rain, sun, warm weather, and patience, one can do almost anything.