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Dock Thoughts

At dusk I stretched out on the dock.. Emmylou Harris was singing about how cowgirls get the blues sometimes. I watched swallows pick at the bugs in the air. The sun was going down somewhere behind a hill but I couldn't tell since I was staring straight up into the sky. Now and then I heard a Robin call. I pictured the bird on the ground among a pile of last fall's leaves. Did the robing get the worm? I was waiting for the first bat of the evening. The rumor is that bats days are numbered. I hoped that wasn't the case because they are good at catching mosquitoes. I thought about this as I slapped at a mosquito buried in my forearm.

My thoughts drifted to when I lived by myself in Boston. I lived in a square brick box. I liked living on my own but I think I may have been lonely. What did I think about on Sunday evenings in the summer when I was 25? I think I used to wish that the weekend would go on for one more day.

My 30th high school reunion took place last night. I didn't go. I kind of missed the fun that I imagined took place at the reunion. Would anyone have remembered me? I'm not friends with anyone from my graduating class so why would I want to go? Do I think I have aged well? Do I think I am better now than I was at 18? Was it my ego that wanted to go to the reunion? I'm glad I didn't go.

I can hear a bass boat trolling up behind my head. I wonder how many bass they have put on the boat tonight. I used to think I would like to fish. I bought a pole, read a magazine, and then went fishing. I decided then that I didn't really like to fish.

Sometimes I wonder why I do the things I do or think the thoughts I do. Is it because of something that happened when I was a child? I doubt it. I think I think the thoughts I do because of life and what I do with it.

What if I stayed stretched out on this dock for the next six months? What would that be like? I think I would start to get cold in the fall. Would I hear the ice start to freeze under my head? I don’t even think I could spend the rest of the night on this dock. Maybe the rumors about the demise of the bat are true because now the mosquitoes are really biting. The mosquitoes are going to bring an end to my evening stretched out on the dock looking up into the dusk.

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