The world was painted with shades of blue and black. The moon illuminated my running path as I lumbered down it this morning. I had forgotten my headlamp and was probing my way through the darkness. I came to a dark lump and slowed. It looked like an alligator. A big alligator.
Crap.
I approached it slowly. It did not move.
I slowly worked my way around it. It still did not move.
When I was past, I turn around and noticed it still was sitting put.
I have seen two other alligators while running recently. Alligator #1 was an eight-foot alligator that was sleeping on the shore near the running path I run on in my neighborhood. When it saw that one, it shot into the water. I about shot my pants.
The second one was a couple of days ago. I saw one in the water and it decided to swim toward me (and then submerge). I ran the other way.
So that was what made this particular alligator seem so odd. The other two, well, moved. I crept toward it and turned the flashlight on my phone. The light revealed what my alligator truly was:
A lump of fallen weeds.
That’s what is so amazing about our brains. We take limited information and fill in the blanks with what we already know. I had seen two alligators and my brain created a third. We are overwhelmed by information and our brains work overtime creating the world that we take in. And sometimes our brains lie through their teeth.
It makes me wonder what else my brain is lying about. I saw my “alligator” after the sun came up and as I ran by it, I had to laugh.
I understand Marshall