

Notes on a hammock

Summer retreat in your own garden. There is nothing more relaxing. Except a summer holiday in your own garden in a hammock.
The plan was to go to the south of France. There will be a few days in Valais and the Bernese Oberland. Matterhorn and Fendant instead of pastis and lavender. Corona is probably not just thwarting my holiday plans this summer. So be it.
The rest: a summer holiday in my own garden including a hammock. I plan to spend hours, oh, what am I saying, days in it.

Above me, the treetop of creation
Ordered, delivered and set up in no time at all, I lie down in it and let my gaze wander towards the sky. Somewhere in the neighbourhood, The B-52s are playing "Those lazy days of summer are here". Someone is cooking, it smells of olives and marjoram. Above me, the canopy of the corkscrew willow gently lulls me to sleep. It's heaven on earth.

Cool and wet. I am suddenly awake. My dog would love to share this summer feeling with me and sticks his nose out at me. Sorry, this is busy.

Since I'm already awake, I use the time before the olives and marjoram to surf the net a bit. And come across this article by my colleague Michael Restin.
You think too much
From Homer Simpson to Sir Isaac Newton to Mark Ruffalo, Michael spans the light blue arc. My dear swan. He seems to be stressed out about his notes from the hammock. You want to shout to him and his nylon cloth: Relax. I'll google Confucius. He always has a suitable saying in such cases. Can't find anything suitable and quickly make something up myself.
Chill your centre, Dude.
With his head full of thoughts, even the self-timer photo becomes a race against time for Michael. The hammock, an antisocial place of laziness? Or even revolutionary thoughts? Not for me. Au contraire. The hammock, a place of maximum nothingness.



From radio journalist to product tester and storyteller, jogger to gravel bike novice and fitness enthusiast with barbells and dumbbells. I'm excited to see where the journey'll take me next.