half way
Nice day yesterday, Apalachicola, an adventure into our past, my past. Driving over, a sky full of clouds with flat, black bottoms threatened rain, but we had a clear day around town, seeing and remembering.
Arriving in Apalachicola felt sentimentally like coming home, and I even came with a short list of homes for sale to drive by and did so; but by the time we drove out of town and into a couple minutes hard driving rain then out the other side into the sunshine and west toward PC, I knew it was over! Life is like a beloved child, passes through, grows up, ages, and is gone!
From Water Street looking east across the Apalachicola River. On an island half way across, a slanted mast is hosted by a grounded sailboat.
This morning at BayTown with Linda's car for oil change &c. Monday, July 1 means 2019 is half way and we are displaced persons over eight and a half months now, How long, Lord? And what besides 84 might September bring, September October coming ashore from the Gulf of Mexico, making landfall? To my mind, the trip through 2019 hurricane season is not unlike driving again after a car wreck, or getting back on a horse that threw me, or swimming again after nearly drowning.
Though the anger seems mostly gone, the grief stirs again driving Tyndall Parkway, across DuPont Bridge, through Tyndall and Mexico Beach. Mexico Beach, quite frankly, looks better than it has since the 1950s when it was just a few houses on the north side of US98 and gloriously nothing but white sand beach and green water to the south. Man, humanity, is Earth's only enemy.
On the east side of TAFB, the hurricane-devastated pine forest on the south side of US98 has been cleared such that, for the first time in my life, the blue water of StAndrewSound and across into the Gulf is seen looking south,
Life is short, and we haven't much time ...
RSF&PTL
T
Arriving in Apalachicola felt sentimentally like coming home, and I even came with a short list of homes for sale to drive by and did so; but by the time we drove out of town and into a couple minutes hard driving rain then out the other side into the sunshine and west toward PC, I knew it was over! Life is like a beloved child, passes through, grows up, ages, and is gone!
From Water Street looking east across the Apalachicola River. On an island half way across, a slanted mast is hosted by a grounded sailboat.
This morning at BayTown with Linda's car for oil change &c. Monday, July 1 means 2019 is half way and we are displaced persons over eight and a half months now, How long, Lord? And what besides 84 might September bring, September October coming ashore from the Gulf of Mexico, making landfall? To my mind, the trip through 2019 hurricane season is not unlike driving again after a car wreck, or getting back on a horse that threw me, or swimming again after nearly drowning.
Though the anger seems mostly gone, the grief stirs again driving Tyndall Parkway, across DuPont Bridge, through Tyndall and Mexico Beach. Mexico Beach, quite frankly, looks better than it has since the 1950s when it was just a few houses on the north side of US98 and gloriously nothing but white sand beach and green water to the south. Man, humanity, is Earth's only enemy.
On the east side of TAFB, the hurricane-devastated pine forest on the south side of US98 has been cleared such that, for the first time in my life, the blue water of StAndrewSound and across into the Gulf is seen looking south,
Life is short, and we haven't much time ...
RSF&PTL
T