Such religious experiences are beyond reason and scientific explanations. It is almost like sitting around a fire with a dozen Indians ingesting peyote buttons.
Though we are within a 22-mile radius of Bean Blossom’s Annual Bluegrass Festival, we are jus’ ‘chillin’ on the ranch. The bluegrass tunes on the stereo are on high, concert-level volume and acts like Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys come back to life.
In reality, an observer could remark that we are just a bunch of Indianans stoned in front of a bonfire. The hallucinations are novel, amusing, fun, funny, and puzzling at all the same time.
The heat of the summer has recently chilled down and there is a fresh steady breeze coming over from the southwest.
You could see two sets of clouds:
- The high flying white puffy cumulous, and
- The secondhand reefer clouds of gray smoke.
It is wonderful taking Sundays off.