Ranch Morning.

 The sun slowly began to rise into the vast sky and the fresh dew glistened as the sun kissed the Savannah good morning.  The morning was still cool; when it got a little warmer the Kabaro insects would come out in fleets to feed.  Mist rose off the distant Kanuku mountain range and from it, came the sounds of Howler monkeys singing their song to tell each other where they planned to eat that day.  The Vaqueros passed the old ranch house as they headed for the corral, whistling and laughing, their leather saddles creakign in time to the eager trot of the horses.  The cattle lowed and ambled out of the way in indignation.  The macaw swooped onto the breakfast from the rafters in a flutter of red, blue and orange; he was greeted by Aunty Lucy's shrieks of protestation, which set a flock of parrots to flight from a nearby mango tree. The geese honked, begging for their release from their cage so they could roam the ranch in search of seeds, grasshoppers or anything appealing.

The pots clattered as one was selected for the use of boiling water so my mother could have her warm 'bucket shower' in the morning.  She and Aunty Lucy chatted quietly about what to cook for lunch, and how many people we might expect would need crossing over the flooded river, that acted as a barrier between the ranch and the main road leading to the nearest town some sixty miles away during the rainy season.  Suddenly from my parents' room came the bellowing of the Beatles' son, "OH BLAH DEE OH BLAH DI, LIFE GOES ONNNN, " as my dad thought it was about time everyone was awake.  Subsequently, my two nieces jumped into my hammock and engaged me in a tickle fight, begging for a morning story.  Jealous of my nieces' attention my Dad promised a better story and they scrambled out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  I rocked in my hammock, enjoying the sounds of the wooden house slowly groaning awake witht he movements of those within it.