Tuesday, August 20--
2:30 p.m.-
The
road crew began paving last week. Flat black smooth stretches--without stretch
marks--buoyantly whispered beneath my tires. I saw my flag lady friend--the
first time since the first time several weeks ago. I honked. She looked away in
a way that said she'd grown tired of being beeped at by adulterous males all
day long.
We
are anchored in the main office. It's been too long since we've been here and
done this. EZ is agitated over invisible interests, first off the starboard
stern, then in the woods off the port, rocking the boat and tipping my balance
each time she decides to change sides. Now she's laid down and dropped her head
over the right gunwale, studying current patterns and reflected azure sky. The
streamside grasses are showing a slowdown as August approaches September. Still
green if I squint. Aureate green when I don't.
2:42-
An
otter just climbed the bank by the water saddle, a young one I think, then it
slid down on its belly, submerged and waved a Zor Funster tail at us.
Caleb
and I have a date to camp on the river tomorrow, but rain is predicted for then
and tonight. High cirrus clouds are covering in. I'll let you know.
4:18-
Pulled
up on Grand Sandbanks hoping, waiting for an attitude to swim.
4:19-
Sirens
in the distance. Maybe somebody shot a wife.
6:37-
Drifting
away from Grand Sandbanks. Sun smudged out by clouds.