Colors coming up now, faint, grays and pinks, sun lightening the sky but not yet showing its face. This is “up,” we are up Scipio Creek at the end of Water Street. To get on up to the marina where commercial vessels dock and there’s a government building where friend Charlotte worked when we lived here two and three decades ago, you have to go a block west and turn north on Market Street. Three days, two nights, our retirement travel close to home and even though nothing equals 7H this is almost equally a place of the heart.
Well, I did once, it would have been 1981, stay in an apartment right on and looking out over Sydney Harbour, one morning there watched as a large sailing yacht made final preparations and got underway for a round-the-world voyage. Sydney, Australia: too far from Apalachicola and StAndrews.
Another time, for a wedding, spring 2003, we were put up in a motel right on a harbor on Florida's east coast. Perfect, that was what sold me on the idea of a condo on sea.
Sounds here from the dark: frogs and an occasional ominous splash. The person minding his traps was by quite early. Now the commercial boats are passing, noisier motors than the almost silent pleasure fishing boats.
As someone heads north, leaving a trail. No thank you.