We have a weekly nude game of Sunday darts that many folks like to play. Its sort of a tradition. Most of the players are regulars and a lot of them finish off their weekends at the park with that game. As one woman said today ‘I look forward to this game all week’.

There are usually about 10 participants but sometimes it swells to about 15 (when we can talk newbies into playing). Plus we have groupies (family & friends), that like to watch and heckle us. Its all in good fun though.

We have a smaller group of dart players that practice during the week in the evenings. All of them are very good. Games are filled with a camaraderie that is positive, supportive, and has a touch of just enough jibe to keep it fun.

But during the Sunday game, all bets are off. And its interesting to watch these really talented players miss a shot. Considering that they throw literally hundreds of darts a week, and they practice with lots of diligence, they sometimes score low during a turn at the dart board.

Why is that? I am not sure, but I think it has to do with peer pressure or maybe performance issues and crowds. But I could be wrong.

Anyway, the point I am making, is that even though there is tough competition, everyone is supportive of each other. No really, they really are! There are lots of kudos, high fives, and rounds of applause. Even if they don’t make a good score, they are made to feel that it was OK and they will do better next time. Plus, if a person is knocked out of the competition, everyone sings a farewell song to them. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy living here???

So how can a dart game be likened to real life? You never know what will be thrown at you. And you never know what you will throw. Its always a surprise when the dart actually goes into the slot it was supposed to. I have been known to do happy dances to celebrate a small victory, like hitting a number I was throwing at. Its the small things in life that make us happiest.

So, I didn’t win this week (or any week for that matter!), but I did hang out to watch the winner do a victory fist pump and shake hands with everyone.

And as people said their goodbyes, and packed up cars to leave, I wandered over to the pool. It was empty for the first time all weekend and I silently slipped in the cool water for a dip. I could hear a few left over firecrackers popping in the distance, a small crowd of revelers cheering on their basketball team at a home nearby, and birds chirping.

I watched the sun dip down into a perfect sunset and smiled. It was a good day.