[Obviously, I'm in a summertime mood today. It might have something to do with the cold and rain of a dismal February day. February! The most useless month!]
June 2009. Late on a Friday afternoon, I was floating in a pool at a condo in Orlando. The ex and the ex in-laws and John and I were all playing in the pool. I was on vacation, so I was about half-drunk on Bud Light. Floating on my back, I was watching the sunset play over the clouds in the near-tropical Central Florida sky.
And there were birds. Lots of birds! Flying in a stream over the pool. More and more birds as it got darker. A rushing river of birds moving across the sky.
But the individual birds were erratic, flying this way and that, even as the whole flock kept moving in the same general direction. And, as it got darker, they seemed to be flying lower, and closer to the streetlights dotted around the clubhouse in the middle of the parking lot.
And there was something strange about their wings...
I stood up in the pool.
"Hey, John," I said, "I think those are bats."
He looked up. "Wow, daddy. That's a lot of bats."
So we watched as millions of bats made the night come that much faster, not far from the Magic Kingdom.
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