Bellvale (Bearfort when in NJ) Mountain is where the sun likes to hide at the end of the day.
Hello, again. If you recall, in the initial “Into the Sun” post I pledged to be more aware of the sun (for 5 days, anyway). And, so far I have done nothing, but shower that big shining ball with praise – the star of aesthetics, the giver of life, yada yada…
I think it is time to be mindful of how irritating the sun can be, especially, when you’re driving home from work at 5:45pm. At this time, the sun (purposely of course) positions itself at precisely the perfect angle along the horizon, where it pierces your eyeballs and you struggle to correct your vehicle away from incoming traffic (protective eye wear is futile). Then, the police car on the side of the road starts to move, but hesitates and then remains in place. The eager law enforcer must have realized that I was not intoxicated yet, sensing that what made me swerve was the same thing that kept him concealed in plain blinding light. So, as the teaching goes: we aren’t always comfortable when we are aware, we are just there for whatever is.
For some insane reason I decided to remotely log in to work to catch up on emails. ON A SATURDAY! So I definitely deserved what was about to happen next. I sat out on the balcony with my lap top, copy pasting stuff from one excel spreadsheet to another well into the 9 o’clock hour. I finally realized that darkness had surrounded me so I decided to head inside. I stumbled into the dark apartment, flicked on the kitchen light, and continued to copy paste things in corporate-zombie-like fashion.
Suddenly, a quick shadow darted across the kitchen. I popped my head up to investigate. My initial thought was that some poor bird flew into the apartment. Then, it dive-bombed at me. The biggest, blackest, furriest bat I’ve ever seen. A self proclaimed nature lover, I jumped out of my seat, setting a new world record for how fast someone could possibly jump out of their seat. I grabbed the nearest object that was within reach and hurled it at the bat.
That object was a box of multi-grain Cheerios. I threw it with such force that it was now raining Cheerios in the kitchen. I raced around ducking and dodging the belligerent bat, crunching the cereal beneath my feet. The thing finally swooped into the room nearest to the balcony and I politely locked the door behind it. I looked around at all the flattened Cheerios on the floor, pondering my next move. Five minutes later I am adorned with a snowboarding jacket, goggles, and gloves, holding a frying pan. I was ready for action!
I flung open the door and charged into the room with the bat, unleashing my best warrior cry. Tripping over various objects, I reached the balcony door and kicked it open. The bat sensed freedom and seized the opportunity. It was free and I gladly returned the frying pan to its usual location. My theory is that the bat originally followed me into the apartment because it was drawn to the bright glare of the computer screen as I brought it inside. Lesson learned so thank you giant-creepy-furry-bat for reminding me to never log in to work on a Saturday again.
Different Bat from Different Encounter
Found this little Pika dude chilling out on a rock in Yellowstone near Old Faithful
Ever find yourself whaling away on your keyboard or clicking and quadruple clicking the crap out of your computer mouse? I call this illness “Mouse and Keyboard Abuse Disorder”, or simply MKAD. The funny thing is you don’t even realize you are acting like a crazy person. Instead, you reassure yourself -“I type with purpose! I am super-duper efficient!”
This illness usually takes hold at work when you are trying to solve a problem. Say for example, you don’t remember where you saved something. Don’t you hate that? Now you are trying extra hard to find where you saved that file.