There’s something, oddly, thrilling about catching a glimpse of your own naked body in the reflection of someone else’s antique grandfather clock just as it begins its hourly chime. Inanimate objects roar with silent envy, “Dance!” They live, vicariously, through your movements. Your feet move in tangent with each tick, hands sashaying brilliantly with each tock. The echos down the hallway seem to encourage this behavior.
Proceeding outside, you prance about in the garden with a galvanized watering can, bringing vibrant life to every flower you visit. The breeze brings much chatter regarding appropriate conduct for naked persons on the veranda and tickles ever so slightly, pointing out tender areas the sun has never seen before.
As the day’s warmth disappears behind the Crape Myrtle, the earth begins to cool and a set of ripples across the water seduces you into the pool. It is here that a squirrel, wearing a bow tie, drops from a nearby oak and offers to uncork a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio, assuring that its firm acidity will give it mouth watering appeal. How can you deny?
Though the water is cool, a warmth spreads throughout your body as each crisp sip passes your lips. Lightning bugs dance over your head, beaming down golden light, celebrating your repose. You are alone, but a part of everything. You smile.
Isn’t house sitting fun?
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