Hitchcockian Afternoon

The quintessential pool day!! 

Gentle breezes, the intoxicating scent of sunscreen and perfume, a bathing suit that fits properly. 

A new float,  some old ABBA, and a fabulous mixed tape that Jim made for me that’s turned me into some kind of uncoordinated mermaid.

Best  of all, the liner has lightened in the sun over these last four years. 

It’s no longer a threatening blue: it’s a “ come on in, the water’s fine!” blue. 

I have no idea what I mean by “threatening blue”.. it’s just this weird vibe.

And speaking of weird, we both shared a Hitchcockian experience yesterday, but today,  Jim just went to play pickleball and our avian friend is  apparently laying low.

Yesterday, the bird went Psycho.

I’m going to call her “Marnie” because I might as well stick  with this Master of the Macabre theme.

We’ve had avian friends drop by before.. even one who literally dropped and committed suicide by the diving board a few summers ago.

Marnie was different. 

She’d fly low.. frighteningly low.. like she was a shark and we were prey on jet skis.

By the time one of us could ask, “ did you just see that?” she’d be back, with menacing swoops and loop-de-loops.

She’d stumble onto the patio, come to, and then start the low flying swoops all over again. 

Jim CRANED his neck, I turned into a RAVEN lunatic, wondering if this was some kind of omen.

She didn’t want food.

She didn’t want water.

She didn’t want to avenge our polarizing  and controversial Facebook posts because I don’t think she could read. 

But she wanted something.

Non-stop swoops with flapping wings that sounded  like a jet taking off at Newark airport. 

There’s been no sign of her this afternoon so I guess that means I should just drink in the beauty of my newly appreciated pool liner’s color and crack open the Kindle. 

She really had me at the end of my Rope yesterday.

Worked us both into a Frenzy.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane. It’s AI​