I woke up this morning dreaming of summer. Not however, the hot, sunny, beach bunny, barbeque type summer where 1970′s muscle cars going roaring down the main streets of southeast, coastal towns with Lynard Skynard pumping out open windows. No, my summer dream, the one I woke up to, had me laying on a hill in the grass just as the sky began to darken. The wind pushed downward from the clouds in that warm, wet, washcloth way that heralds a coming storm. The seed heads of the tall grasses keep taping me on the forehead. One particularly insolent stalk repeatedly tapped me in the corner of my lip causing that sort of weird tickle that causes your spine to spasm. My eyes framed the sky as a bubbling cauldron of cloud approached in from the northwest. In that moment my thoughts were no more complex than that of a deer. I would lye here in the tall grass until the storm passed. Whack! I was going to pull that silly weed if it hit me in the lip one more time. . . Then I woke up.

The house was cold and I shivered as I got dressed and traipsed my way round for coffee and my multitude of morning pills; Aspirin, vitamin, allergy pill, joy pill and mixed nicely with my insanely strong black coffee in my now obsolete KayakWisconsin Cup. I came out to the office to work on my blog. I put on music; “Clair De Lune” came through the speakers. Each note of the piano fell on my ears like a rain drop.

I laid in the grass as the rain began to come in earnest. I felt tiny rivulets running down my cheek. Thunder rumbled in a deep “dump truck on a highway” sort of way. It was so warm, the drops lacked any sensation of cold as they tapped against my skin. That stupid blade of grass ticked at my lip again. I reached up with two fingers and “POP”. It was now an inch sorter. The seed head fell against my ear with the soft touch of a caterpillar. The grass swirled under the power of the humid wind. I had an impression of an giant invisible snake slithering it’s way across the top of the hill.

Suddenly I was in a car. It was winter. It was raining. I heard her voice. Something nonsensical. I was trying to remember the words.

I was standing on a side walk on an unfamiliar street corner. She was talking to a stranger about people I didn’t know. Under the lamplight I watched the barren trees sway slightly beneath the false yellow clouds of an urban sky. “I wonder if it’s going to rain?” I thought. I turned to say something, but then I woke up.