sometimes, you just gotta throw yourself on the ground

... and look up at the stars through the branches of the cypress trees, the steams swirling and rolling past as it flies just above the surface of the warm river. the cypress island, what i call it, is one of my favorite spots in the morning, early before the dawn, on a clear, cold mornings just like today. except for the mottled black and gray cat, max and i encountered no wildlife. the twisted roots and bulging 'knees' of the cypress makes walking in the dark on the island a bit of a challenge; for me of course, its no big deal for max. the water is dark and the head light from the train going over the bridge casts any creepy yellowish light on the river. the park is empty and not even the fishermen or the joggers are out yet.