It was one of those special mornings when everything is just pluperfect – and I mean everything – from the early morning light, to the bird-song, to the temperature – the ambience reeked of perfection. As (I think it was) the poet Browning said, like “God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world” or something similar anyway.

The morning walk-about with the dogs was like walking in a glittering fantasy-land, the morning exercises brought out some extra-special energy that coursed through the being, even the music that came through WorldSpace, be it classical (early morning), jazz (mid-morn) or that good ‘ol 60s and 70s R ‘n B and rock ‘n roll (later-morn, towards noon) was too good to be true – hitting the spot every single time. Oh, and no external influences were responsible for this special state of being, okay – just to clarify things!

The scrambled eggs done in butter with a few chopped green chilies and a smattering of cheese on perfectly toasted bread tasted like never before, although it is a popular brekkers at Flowerbook. Then, whilst feeding the leftover bread to the ducks I noticed that even the crows that usually make a racket trying to snag bits of bread, were particularly restrained and waited for me to throw them some crumbs, instead of the usual raucous pushing and shoving type of behaviour they are known for. The ducks themselves looked resplendent, their plumage gleaming metallic shades of different hues as the sunlight caught the angles. Incredible! Buster, Rocky and Bruiser looked like celestial canines – missing only the wings, but glowing in the sunshine and mellower than I had ever seen them before.

I got back in the house – kinda floating along – and checked my mail. No bummers or urgent shite that needed immediate attention, just some pleasant communiqués from near and dear friends, all adding to the wonder that was the day so far. And then I wondered about how long this would last for – surely, it was too good to be true, but I knew I wasn’t dreaming when Java appeared and told me that I looked different.

Like yo got som aura or shheet like dat maan – whatcha bin droppin dis time of da day? Nuttin? Den how com yo look so fuckin spaced out an weird?

Weird??!!! I floated off to the dresser and took a look at meself. Yeah, something did seem a bit off kilter – a slight flush maybe, giving my face a ruddy hue, like I’d been sunburned, but not quite. I sure as hell felt super-good – almost like I was tripping, but I knew better.

So what was this all about and what was on the way? Was this what Bucke described as ‘cosmic consciousness,’ or the onset of it? Whatever it was (is), I ain’t complaining, ‘cause it sure feels great!

Heeey maaaan, have a toke – look like yo be needin somting to bring yo ass down! An if yo don tell me how yo be gettin on dat trip I won be tellin yo what happen when Alice finally met up with dat Cherry Lady – an I jus know dat yo wanna get in on dat sheeeet.

That one sounds good, so I take the doobie out of his hand and drag deep – tastes like Colombia. Wonder how this will affect the ‘whatever it is’?

I guess time will tell.

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