Blog #176: Hammock Thoughts

Gently swinging back and forth in the wind, I drift in and out of sleepy consciousness.

Even in sleep, my body is careful not to shift, so as to keep me from falling off. Not that it would be that far of a fall anyway...

The harsh summer sun continues to soften around the edges, like ice cream left out on the counter.

My barely-conscious hammock thoughts are vivid, with images like a dream:

Did Sarah actually think "Eno" was an appropriate thing to call a hammock, let alone that we'd even know what she was talking about?

I wonder how many plants I can fit into my apartment. Reasonably or unreasonably.

Maybe I'll just sleep out here for the night.

Who gave the cicadas microphones?