There’s an Ocean Liner in my Yard

Last night I was awakened from a deep sleep by the prolonged blast of a ship horn. Instantly, I knew the sound, because like so many people, I had watched Titanic more than once. Immediately, I sprang out of bed and peered out the window. Seeing nothing, I wondered what on earth it was. “Perhaps an odd dream,” I muttered. Again the horn sounded, this time followed by a sharp, piercing whistle. “Ok, what is that!” I exclaimed. I ran upstairs and out the front door. I could hear the sounds of movement on the other side of the trees, so I ran down the long gravel driveway. As I passed the row of trees that separated my house from the big fields, I stopped short in amazement. There, in the midst of the fields, was a massive ocean liner plowing through the soybeans! Brlliant lights illuminated people standing on the decks talking and drinking coffee. A band played some soft jazz at the rear of the ship. I could hear the mournful sax drifting across the fields. She was making good time – probably doing about 30 knots through the bean fields. Large clumps of dirt and rocks were pushed aside as the liner plowed through the fields. In a few minutes, she was gone, and all that remained was a deep furrow marking her passage. I stood there, completely transfixed by the strange sight I had just witnessed. Slowly, I turned and walked back to the house, shaking my head in wonder.