How I wish I had a picture of all this, right now. First, I most likely am sitting on an anthill. On the grass. Green. Under a tree. And hey, it's an oak. Little insects fly in front of my computer screen on their way to bite me. The moon is almost full. Behind me. That's right; it's night. It is shining on us, here in Black Something Falls(?) Wisconsin. And although this wifi is impressively fast, I'm slowed down because I can only see parts of my keyboard.
At the moment, I am facing a motel, lit by the orange light of the parking lot. Exposed. Catching their wifi overflow. The people in the third floor room with the picture and lamp have pulled their curtains, so I am looking at a tidy picture of windows equidistant from each other, all with their curtains nicely shut. The voyeur in me is disappointed.
Across the parking lot, I hear the woman talking on her cell phone from time to time. There's a highway to my left. Steady buzz. The blue police light that flashed in my peripheral vision, and disconcertingly inside my glasses is gone. In the distance I see the Flying J truck stop, but we ate dinner in tonight. There's a fountain, illuminated at it's base, shooting up from a pond in front of the motel. A little island with a large spotlit deer rises from the water also. Majestic as shiny plastic can be. The requisite huge American flag across the highway. And on the grass here at the motel, the skeleton of a teepee. Tipi? What a world.
And what a night. Warm enough but with a cool edge. There are children in this campground. They went swimming earlier. They ride their bicycles. Hold puppies. Sit with their parents by the fire. In the distance a blue bug light crisps. And I've been able finally to go online again. I scouted this spot out on my way back from dropping a ludicrous Fern Michaels book off at the book swap. I had to go back to the Bounder, get my computer and come all the way back, just to see if I could get a signal. I'm flying on four bars.
I'd love to send more emails. But I won't push my luck. I'm feeling antsy.
At the moment, I am facing a motel, lit by the orange light of the parking lot. Exposed. Catching their wifi overflow. The people in the third floor room with the picture and lamp have pulled their curtains, so I am looking at a tidy picture of windows equidistant from each other, all with their curtains nicely shut. The voyeur in me is disappointed.
Across the parking lot, I hear the woman talking on her cell phone from time to time. There's a highway to my left. Steady buzz. The blue police light that flashed in my peripheral vision, and disconcertingly inside my glasses is gone. In the distance I see the Flying J truck stop, but we ate dinner in tonight. There's a fountain, illuminated at it's base, shooting up from a pond in front of the motel. A little island with a large spotlit deer rises from the water also. Majestic as shiny plastic can be. The requisite huge American flag across the highway. And on the grass here at the motel, the skeleton of a teepee. Tipi? What a world.
And what a night. Warm enough but with a cool edge. There are children in this campground. They went swimming earlier. They ride their bicycles. Hold puppies. Sit with their parents by the fire. In the distance a blue bug light crisps. And I've been able finally to go online again. I scouted this spot out on my way back from dropping a ludicrous Fern Michaels book off at the book swap. I had to go back to the Bounder, get my computer and come all the way back, just to see if I could get a signal. I'm flying on four bars.
I'd love to send more emails. But I won't push my luck. I'm feeling antsy.
posted by Susan at 9:15 PM
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