Pound River, Virginia

Before daylight, two enormous flashes of lightning from a high cloud the other side of Tyndall and beyond over the Gulf. Two and that was it, and far enough away, or 7H is so well insulated, no thunder sound. Which shows the premise that if there are no ears to hear, there is no sound? Does that make sound theoretical? IDK, I know nothing.

White again, shades of gray actually beyond the scaffolding, as the sky lightens into Saturday morning and the light on the tower beyond Courtney Point changes from red to white and a boat moves toward the Pass. And that's an unedited color shot. Could've done a better job trimming my window frame out of that picture, O wth.

Saturday: things to do, places to go, but no people to see. I need to go out to BP PCB and get my copier/printer, it's in my car, in the garage. Maybe I will, because, traveling mercies, if the rector's flight is delayed I'll need those sermon notes printed for Sunday morning.

Good phone call conversation visit with my sister last evening, she in her large RV, which is her residence, in a campground in Virginia. Gina picks picturesque places to go and highways to drive. That was Pound River, Virginia, with the bubbling sound, where she enjoyed meeting various camping families and sharing supper each evening the week or so she was there, of fish they caught that day from the river. If this is 7H, her life is RVH. But then she's only 81, while next month I'll turn 84. I could live that, but IDK, I might rather have a houseboat and move from harbor to harbor.

It's Saturday and Life Is Good.

RSF&PTL

T