backwards insomnia

Like most things in my life I seem to do them off schedule from others, some say I do things backwards. Well for one I’m horrible at insomnia… I do it backwards from most. Mine seems to hit me at four in the morning. My insomnia hits me then I suppose from getting up before dawn for some other persons economic interest. The mutual exploitations of each other. They exploited my services I exploited their need to have somebody drive their truck.

Ya’ see things in the morning that you don’t see at night… Ya’ see folks that are very interesting far more interesting than the celebrities. Celebrity is interesting enough I suppose. But it is the everyday person that I find far more interesting to watch and listen to. (Reality shows do not count.)

My insomnia hits at four am. These days... If I’m lucky it hits at six am. Kind of a pain for somebody who likes the idea of staying up past midnight. Of course the streets are quiet at one am. Except for the arguments across the street that are fueled by a bottle of rum.

The everyday person scrapping and struggling to have a place with clean sheets and two rooms & a bath. They intrigue me. It is me, it is many of us. At the end of the day or night… We all basically want the same thing, a safe place to get some rest. So that we do it all again the next day.

Drove short line at night for many years saw strange things out on the night road. Sedans packed tight with the worldly belongings of the driver. Twine holding the trunk lids closed all the belongings in boxes peeking out above the tail lights. It always looked as if the trunk lid was ready to pop open at the next bump in the road.

Owls with wing spans as wide as the windshield of that old International Harvester I drove. Glad I never hit one those owls. They always flew right at the damn truck and turned at the last minute before impact. The headlights of the truck illuminating the white feathers that are underneath what you normally see when looking at a owl just perched in a tree, or a barn. I tell ya’ those white feathers underneath reflecting the headlights back at me was blinding then whoosh the owl would be gone. I would be blinking my eyes for a few minutes trying to adjust back to the darkness of the night. Seemed to happen when the moon was out.

Elk herds that followed the path of migration. A path that was there long before the ribbon of concrete was put in that cut across the elk path. Glad I never hit one of those elk. Came close one time. Stopped my rig, and walked back to the herd. The elk stopped and looked at me I think they were annoyed that the path of migration was interrupted and looked at me as a intruder. Full moon that night we just stood there for a minute or two. I left wondering just wondering well not much else one can do in truck for nine ten hours a night. Sometimes I miss those clear mountain nights. Sometimes I miss those early mornings when the rest of the world seemed to be asleep. Except for those sedans that were packed so tight the only space was for the person behind the wheel. I parked that truck years ago. Ended up driving a desk.

Don’t see many elk here in town, nor any owls. I do get to see a young falcon once in a while he lands in the tree off my balcony. Sometimes the urban raccoon with young ones right behind. So critters keep showing up to say hello. Just different ones from years ago.

Those early morning wake up calls for years are the cause of my backwards insomnia. Yep I’m up all day. Some days are more awake some days are just exhausted imitations of being awake. I tried a nap a while back… I heard great things about them. If were not for the daylight insomnia I wouldn’t mind getting some rest. None the less if I slept all morning long I would not see the characters that keep this sleepy little sea side village going.













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Dog Hair Productions.