Right now it is 80° with the whiff of a breeze from the north window behind me. The sun is out, but it will play peek-a-boo all day. Last night was cool by comparison. It got down to the high 60’s which was a delight. Tonight will be similar. The sloth in me is strong today because every other day this week I have toiled. I have dusted, swept the deck twice, cleared rooms and vacuumed. I don’t know where these sudden bursts of energy originate, but I want to put a stop to them.

When I was a kid, my favorite cereal was Rice Krispies. I really did like the snap, crackle and pop. On Saturdays, I’d sit on the floor in front of the TV with my cereal bowl in hand and watch some of my favorite programs. I do not love westerns, but I did as a kid. I loved The Lone Ranger and his “fiery horse with the speed of light.” Every now and then I still watch it. Roy Rogers and Gene Autry were both singing cowboys. Hopalong Cassidy wasn’t. Another sort of western was Sergeant Preston of the Canadian Mounted Police. I remember his dog Yukon King and his horse Rex. I also remember I learned where the Yukon is. “Hey, Wild Bill, wait for me,” was Jingles’ call at the start of Wild Bill Hickok. I loved Cisco and Pancho. Cisco had the best clothes, especially a beautiful embroidered sombrero. Pancho had a thick accent. They were desperados wanted by the authorities, but Cisco was a sort of western Robin Hood helping the downtrodden. I watched them all: Annie Oakley, Fury, Rin Tin Tin and the flying cowboy of sorts, Sky King.

It was Saturday morning in the 1950’s when I first fell in love with black and white science fiction. Captain Midnight and his sidekick Ichabod Mudd, with two d’s, was a favorite. There were old movie serials like Gene Autry and The Phantom Empire. I remember the long, long elevator to the subterranean civilization under his ranch. I watched every episode. Even back then, I willingly suspended disbelief.

This morning is a delight. The air, blowing a bit from the north, even feels a little chilly. It is 70° with no humidity. Later it will get warmer, 78° being the high for the day. I haven’t a list so I feel a bit at sea. Yesterday I not only completed my list but also filled the bird feeders, not on the list. I feel accomplished.

Every season has a feel about it. Every season even has a wardrobe. My favorite season is fall, but I do love summers, especially summer nights. The doors and windows are open. The air is filled with the chirping of katydids and crickets. Sometimes I can hear a frog, and I swear I sometimes hear an owl. My neighborhood is always quiet. I can see the lights in the windows of my neighbors’ houses. In my house, the lights somehow look dimmer at night, a bit diffused. Out the back door, white lights are on the fence. I keep lit candles in the windows. Sometimes I go out just to sit on the deck in the dark. The dogs come with me. They lie down but stay alert. I keep watch for fireflies. The dogs just keep watch.

When I was a kid, Duke, our boxer, followed us everywhere. We used to yell at him to stay, and Duke would sit. We’d walk a little bit then turn around to check on Duke, and he’d still be sitting, but the distance between us and the sitting dog never changed, never got any bigger. Duke knew how to dupe us. My father and mother were also his victims. Duke sometimes escaped in the morning and would start to follow kids to school. My father would yell out the door for Duke to come. He’d turn around, give my father a defiant look and then keep walking even a little faster. My father would get so mad he’d hop in his car and chase Duke. He usually caught him as Duke couldn’t resist a ride in the car. My mother tried to bribe Duke with bologna. She’d hold the meat out the front door, shake it so Duke could see it. He’d run to the door and snatch the meat. My mother never caught him. Nala has a bit of Duke about her, a big bit of Duke, and I am her victim.

I don’t know what I’ll do today. Maybe I’ll sweep the deck. Maybe I’ll check a few stored bins as I’m missing some shirts I hand made in Ghana. I might even make my bed, but then again I don’t want to go overboard. (I’d like to point out that I started this with an ocean idiom and am finishing it in like fashion!)