Uma Maya's Gifts

I woke from a dream featuring Uma, my beloved cat, lounging serenely in her favorite hideaway – the blue box (with the half-moon doorway) in Ms. Wonder's upstairs sanctuary. 

The dream wasn't a narrative, but an image: Uma gazing at me with a peaceful serenity that seemed to whisper, "Don't worry, food guy. I'm with you, always." It felt less like a dream and more like a visitation.

Uma & Me

Awakened by the haunting melody of "Total Eclipse of the Heart," I was initially puzzled. The dream, though tinged with a touch of melancholy, didn't feel entirely eclipsed. This disconnect between the song and my emotions left me unsettled.

Are you as frustrated as I am by these mixed messages the Universe seems to favor?

The early hour felt less like the dawn of a new day and more like the middle of the night. I debated whether to rise, the prospect of coffee battling with the allure of sleep. Finally, I pulled back the kitchen curtains, revealing a dark backyard illuminated by a single, lonely solar light.

ICuriously, I approached the light, gently nudging it with my toe to realign it. The instant I touched it, it extinguished. "What the hell, Louis?" I muttered to myself.

Despite the odd encounter, I brewed coffee and carried it to the lanai. As I began recording bird calls on the Merlin app, I decided to embrace the unexpected gift of this early morning, a time I rarely savor.

Ms. Wonder, I knew, would be awake by now, brimming with ideas for a fulfilling day. But then I remembered she and her friend were on Oak Island, climbing the lighthouse. 

You surely remember Charlie, the terrier with an expression that sometimes says, 'I love you because you're amazing.' and at other times, looks like a Baptist minister rebuking sin in the congregation. I mention it here because Charlie's housekeeper is the friend climbing the lighthouse with Wonder.

Their penchant for these adventurous outings puzzled me – I mean, why climb lighthouses? Is it just because lighthouses exist? I'll ask Dr. Coast, she probably studied these aberrations in graduate school.

Determined to shake off the "eclipse of the heart" and elevate my mood, I formulated a plan: to simply enjoy the morning. The idea of journaling appealed to me. I envisioned myself writing to you, dear reader, and that thought brought a smile to my face.

By half past nine, it was clear that journaling would be nothing but a series of fits and starts. Not what I was hoping for. Time to initiate Plan B: I fired up Wynd Horse and headed towards the Memorial Bridge, then turned onto Castle Street.

Feathery clouds had sneaked into the sky while I wasn't looking, and a brisk wind caused dry leaves to crab-walk across the street. I drove slowly half-expecting to glimpse Piglet soaring overhead. Stranger things have happened on Castle Street. 

At the coffee shop, I selected a cozy window seat, not too near the door, and savored a cup of Jah's Mercy. The music was upbeat, the atmosphere relaxed, and a sense of peace settled over me.

As I sipped my coffee, I recalled the most important life lesson Uma taught me:

"Every day is a gift and a reason to celebrate life."

A smile spread across my face. The "eclipse of the heart" began to lift. In this moment, in this place, I realized that life is indeed, the most precious gift and a reason for continuous celebration.

Thank you, Uma!