June 3th, 2002 - 6:21 a.m.

White night reverie.

White nights are entertaining not only because they allow one to occupy one�s time without disturbance, but the quietness is unparalleled. So close to perfection. The beauty of the light shifting slowly from the edge of the horizon; Apollo grasping onto the precipice, pulling himself, mountain climber style, up to greet the new day.

In my mind, the earth is flat. And imagination and myth are alive and doing well.

I wish I were a mandrill. Nestle amongst the branches. Reach over to a nearby branch, and grab breakfast when the day breaks out in vibrant light. Child clad in a blue, with black punkish hair. Stretch the muscles. Take the first jump from one tree to another. Join the forest elephants for a drink of water in a rare clearing of the rain forest. Butterflies fluttering about. The luckless ones becoming the meal of spiders with a mass canopy of delicate thread, sparkling in the sun. Listen to an impromptu mid morning concert of song birds declaring their desire to find a mate. Snack on leaves and young branches. A narrow escape from a gorgeously patterned python, tasting the air with its black pronged tongue. The sound of wind fallen fruit excites the ears, and a fast tree leaping feat is in order to beat the suntipped monkeys, and the spot nosed monkeys to the meal. Parrots decide to perform a matinee fashion show; their colourful plumage a source of much pride.

But I would much rather be an octopus. Glide along the ocean floor, skirts dramatically flaring, landing with the utmost grace from rocky ledge to sandy bottom. Watch the neighbourhood starfish consume a dinner of crab. Saunter past the den of the grumpy moray eel, careful not to annoy the hermit. Changing colour as the mood suits. Overhead, sharks are after a school of fish, their senses keen and their appetites sharp. The humans who come for a rare visit, all odd coloured, with their misshaped fins! Those upper limbs not suited at all to ocean life. How very strange and curious! Yes, I would very much like to be an octopus.

But instead, I think the tenants of this house will soon be awake, so I must go and pretend to be asleep so as not to arouse suspicion.

N.

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