My brother Noah’s old hammock is perfectly split between a green and a near purple-blue.
It’s what I’ve been using to keep me suspended in the air since the spring-weather hit.
Since my orange and black one got lost in the summer of 2018 and I’ve gone hammock-less since then, it’s nice to have something back in action that I’ve seen so many times before, and feel so familiar with.
Yes, that was the same summer as the bedroom fire that I had where I lost the majority of my belongings.
Strangely enough, my hammock wasn’t one of the things lost then.
Put simply, it was misplaced a few weeks before.
I assume that it was left it in Grand Rapids and never recovered; along with a few other very important things of mine that got lost in the move. A bookcase, a Toy Story poster that was larger than myself, and even some clothing that I left in my closet.
The move out of that house struck me quite suddenly and mostly strangely.
Since hanging it up in my back yard, between two trees surrounded by beautiful moss and purple creeping myrtle, the new/old hammock seen a lot of sunlight action.
It’s my go to spot for reading “Neverwhere” by Neil Gaiman (which has been a source of many a dreams since starting my reading; most of which have been about rats,) different New Yorkers, and “Autobiography of Red” by Anne Carson.
The sun hits perfectly in the chosen spot of mine, and the pages love the light.
As do I.