
5:16 p.m.-
Optimism
is gone from the riverbank. The trees, though mostly still green, show fatigue
in their hue. Grasses and weeds and marshes have retired to mostly dead brown
sprigs with slender suggestions of wan dusty green. Insects are gone but for a
lone lethargic house fly circling inside the boat but for the first time this
summer I've worn jeans and it can't get near bare skin for a bite. It's been a
glorious sunshiny day for get-ready-for winter chores. The sun is warm enough
to push off the sixty-five degree breeze.
We're
anchored on Bald Head. EZ, maniacal from her seat in the back of the car, is
wading and blowing bubbles through her snout to pick out scraps of bark and
other swampy morsels from the river bottom.
It's
startling to see such sudden changes after three months of forward-ho summer
growth.
While
unloading the boat a man drove into the ramp area. EZ went wild, barking at his
door, which he opened naively. She jumped up and pawed for attention; he petted
her tentatively, though under duress, performing an act of hasty civility. EZ's
surety of glad reception from strangers and uninhibited affection is a trait I've
never been able to modify. A bit embarrassing at times when she blasts up to
newcomers in public and grovels for loving. Last week a couple pulled up to the
pier and before I could change her plans (seldom does she let here plans be
changed once she's caught up in the moment) she'd jumped into the boat and sat
on the same seat as a woman sat and licked her face. The woman, mortified at
bared dog teeth approaching fast and definitely at her, relaxed minutely not to
be bitten and patted EZ on the head, "nice doggie."
5:48-
Have
brought along the American Government textbook, quiz on Wednesday covering chapter
3 "Federalism." I answered 4 of 10 correctly on the first quiz ten
days ago, a sobering wakeup call to pay better attention to my reading.
6:00-
I
spoke too soon about bugs being absent. A mosquito corpse is lying on the boat
floor. Another is readying to join it.