w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:

"Every day I spend my time, drinking wine, feeling fine.
Waiting here to find the sign, that I can understand."

Python Lee Jackson feat. Rod Stewart: "In a broken dream"
From the album: "The Story So Far"

I was on holiday, in America. We were at the beach, swimming in the sea near a big naval harbour. A local guy got a call to say that a friend wouldn't be able to join them, because an "All ports held" order had gone out, signifying that the ships were to be prepared in readiness for action.

Everyone on the beach repaired to the nearest bars, to get some facts to replace the eddying rumours already circulating..

I was stood in a swirling sea of high emotion, with young men, especially, silently musing about what this could mean to them. That yawning second between fun and no responsibility and peace - then war and all that that could bring upon them.

I was part of the group of people, and yet, not of them. My foreigner/tourist status set me apart. A strange detachment of feeling, even though they were fellow human beings?

"I've got to blog this!" I thought. "I'll be one of the first to 'report' this situation back to home." I rushed outside.

And then I woke up. It was just a dream, after all. Yet there are British and American personnel being killed even as I write this, in a 'war' that should never have kicked off in the way it did, and should not have endured the time it's run so far, with no immediate sign of respite?

And where are those headlines now?