Celestial crossroads formed by jagged rain clouds seem fraught with giddiness over their preview of another monsoonal day. My recent sweep up of sticks and leaves is already covered anew and the orange and ruby faces of the lantanas are much more welcoming. The water in the pool is exactly the right temp so I bob and lurch feigning Seaworld moves when I'm shocked to see my uncle Durrell standing on the steps. The shock comes from realizing he died forty years ago and yet there he is. Then a splash behind me turns out to be Nick the auto mechanic who used to repair my rigs back in the 80s. Then the kids from the old neighborhood were splashing each other and I figured I was dreaming, except I wasn't. I called out names but nobody turned around and when I swam over to them, they popped up in a different place. This stopped being funny, if it ever was, and I thought maybe I was drugged or maybe losing my mind. Then the back gate opened and this guy in a vested long suit with a beard stood before me and asked me "did you recently google Brigham Young?" I answered yes and he said "I come in peace but knock off trying to dig up dirt on me, OK?" I assured him my curiosity was well intentioned but of course I will find another topic to research. With that he was gone as well as the other guests. I dried off and sat on the swing thinking my sweetie won't believe me when she asks "what did you do today?"