A Damp Patch Of Reality

At 5.45 am this morning I sat outside in the garden and watched the dogs as they strolled around looking for the right place for their morning pee.

There was a strange silence.

No bird song, no sound of traffic, no sound from neighbours.

Silence!

It was so peaceful!

I felt that I was alone in the world (except for my dogs) and I remember thinking this is perfect!

I looked around.

There was a spiders web industriously being spun by an ugly brute of a spider just under the top rail of the decking.

I could see small drops of dew glistening on the silky web.

I looked at the grass. Dew twinkled there also as the early morning light gained strength.

I looked at the patched up fence (damaged by high winds at the beginning of May) and thought it's about time I did something about that, and knew instantly that I wouldn't ... not for a while at least.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, birds began to sing and the sound of cars could be heard.

A beeping alarm clock could be heard from an open window somewhere.

I heard a door open and then close again as one of our neighbours let their dog into the garden for his morning ablutions.

A chill to started creep through my bones.

Time for a coffee, I thought.

The return of sound had shattered that magical and serene moment and my garden became just another patch of grass.

I stood up and went back into the house. The dogs followed and went to their food bowls with an expectant look on their faces.

I went upstairs and changed my trousers.

Not only had I sat in seagull shit, but I had planted my arse onto a garden chair soaked with early morning dew that I had moments before thought of as glistening and twinkling, but now thought of as bloody wet.

Just a little touch of heaven and a damp patch of reality.

What a start to the day!