ALL GOOD THINGS MUST COME TO AN END

It was 6 am and i sat in the back yard watching the sun rise over the garage. The air was filled with the sound of a hundred birds waking up and greeting the dawn. I could recognize the coos of doves and the cawing of crows, but there were unfamiliar calls too--perhaps the cardinals I'd seen hopping on the bird feeder outside the kitchen window the previous day.

It was a symphony to morning--those bird calls, blended with the faint sound of the water bubbling in a small fountain, the air conditioner in the mobile home,  where some were still sleeping, the braying jackass next door, and if I istened carefully, the faint snores from the living room of the house.

Between two trees, a hammock swayed lazily, its occupant trying to catch a few more moments of sleep.

My bottom is damp from the dew on the chair where I am sitting. Around me are the remnants of last night's revelry--a butt bucket filled with dead cigarettes, a table laden with creams and lotions which had been liberally applied during the day, a stack of CDs, percussion instruments, water bottles, the margarita bucket, pistachio shells on the ground...

There is a vast expanse of lawn dotted with tall trees on which hang heavy windchimes. A large blue marble sits on a pedastle along the back fence. The deck is awash in color from a dozen flowering plants I can't identify.

I had fallen asleep before most of the group last night--slumped in a recliner chair trying to watch a movie.  So I have been awake since 5 a.m., at first sitting the kitchen reading Paul Monette's Last Watch of the Night by the light of a small counter light, and now, as the sun rises, tapping out this entry, letter by letter on the keyboard of my palm pilot.

From the kitchen comes the smell of coffee. Someone is awake.

Later

We had a lazy day. Things were winding down, and we were leaving for our respective homes at different times, so the day was dotted with flurries of tearful goodbyes. In between times we ate (liberally--there will be no "stasis" this week, I fear), some played chess, some watched a videotape of Cirque de Soleille, some (me) snuck off to check e-mail.

Mostly, we sat and talked...on the deck, in the gazebo, in the living room, over eggs at the kitchen table. Sharing our stories, tales of our jobs and our families. Photos were passed around; photos were taken.

It's always like this when Internet friends meet for the first time. You arrive not quite knowing what to expect. You leave with hugs and tears and promises to check e-mail as soon as you get home.

The Internet has brought so many like-minded people from far and near together. I've made wonderful friends at gatherings like this...this was another of these wonderful weekends.