BLISS WAS IT IN THAT DAWN TO BE ALIVE

May month burnishing the heart land.

A striped thrush singing on a telephone wire.

He's a big fatty.

So joyful.

The air full of lilac scents.

White flowers blossoming all over.

A man's life what is it?

Where did that question come from?

It's from something.

One of the God of the Hebrews gags, I think.

Jeeves would know.

The two dogs are beside me at a picnic table, snarfling biscuits whenever I proffer them one.

Cecilia and XT are promenading on the lake with their seven baby swans.

A rather dashing looking Eastern European man and woman are watching the swans from the bank.

The human couple look like Manga characters. The man has a shock of dyed orange hair. The woman's hair is blue.

Together with the swans, they make a quaint picture.

"Ooh, ooh, ah."

It is the blue haired woman.

She is gesturing.

Her voice has alarm in it.

I stand up and walk over.

Four of the baby swans have been swept into the mill race stream.

The adult swans are in distress but helpless.

"Will you hold these," I say to the Manga characters, handing them my dog leads.

I plunge into the mill race.

A baby swan swims towards me.

"Come with me if you want to live," I tell the baby swan.

And somewhere the bloke from Terminator One is smiling.

I start bunging baby swans up over the small weir and back onto the lake.

As I'm about to leave the mill race, XT, the papa swan, comes crashing over the weir down beside me.

I decide not to linger over explanations about my attempts to help.

I leave XT to extricate himself which he does with no difficulty.

I think he knew I was helping.

God lets the creatures know things.

But romantic as I am about such notions, I wouldn't stay in a mill race with an adult male swan who might just might have got the wrong impression and thought I was a baddie.

Schwarzeneggar would be gentle by comparison.

As I stood on the bank dripping wet, there was great mutual congratulations with various onlookers.

Quietly to myself I addressed the God of the Hebrews: "This is what I want Lord. I want to do good for someone. Somewhere. Somehow."

Elle and Pavel returned my dogs.

A Turkish woman came running up and got my phone number.

Ah yes.

With all my issues, some might say neuroses, regarding Muslim clan gang harassment over the past decade or two, (big shout out to Amrhasser and all at the Alke Babish takeaway) I'm still divvying up my phone number at a moment's notice to any stray Muslim woman who passes within ten feet of me.

Hilarious no.

Truly I am a goon.

My Manga name is Goonor.

I come from the planet Goonatron.

I am the ruler of its largest city Goonopolis.

And my motto is the old Irish battle cry: "Suas do ghuna Una."