Steve and I were sitting on the terrace of our hotel for a while. When we got back to the room, he sat down and wrote this, which he handed me. I, of course, asked if I could post it.
A few moments behind Steve's closed eyes:
Tonight I sprawled out on a lounge chair on the 7th floor deck overlooking the ocean. I closed my eyes with the expressed purpose of listening. We talk about the "sights and sounds," but it is the sights that get the lion's share of our attention. I heard the waves crashing to the shore, and the wind, of course. I heard people talking beside me, people talking above me (somewhere between floors 7 and 15), an infant talking, an infant screaming (different infants), a car motor, a car horn, the creaking of a hammock (ropes in knots, hooks on the stand? -- I dunno), a sliding patio door, opening and THUMP closing, glass tinkling (glass on glass, ice on glass, a knife in an empty peanut butter jar? - again, I dunno), the gate to the observation deck closing - bang/clang (the spring could use some adjustment), an airplane overhead, and last but not least, Steve Perry and Journey singing something from the 80's -- a time my kids call oldies. They had better watch, or I'll make them wear my bell bottoms and leisure suits -- then we would hear more screaming.
Image: The moon from the terrace as we left to come back to the room.