Plus, we have the dehydrator going with cut-up, seasoned okra for snacks. Can you imagine? Crispy, spicy okra snacks?
This could be the best ever.
And then we took a boat ride. Mr. Moon borrowed a boat from our friend Tom to go gator hunting in and he cleaned it all up and got it tuned up and ready to go and we took it down to the Wacissa River which is about eight miles from our house. Okay, maybe ten. I have no idea. But close. Real close. It's a fucking sin that I don't go there more often. It's what Florida is. It's why we live here.
It was a dream.
The spring head where we put the boat in. Folks gather here like the animals at any watering hole. It is pure goodness. Kids and grown-ups and rednecks and kayakers and dogs. There was a bull dog that I tried like hell to get a picture of but I couldn't. She was beautiful, one eye circled in brown, all muscle and joy.
A tiny island with a tiny bonsai cypress tree and limerock.
Sky and water.
We went up into a springhead and swam. The water is so cold that it takes a while for old hearts to settle down. It is a renewal. It is a cold, sweet blessing.
There were two happy labs with their daddy there. They dove and swam like otters.
Kayakers leaving the spring head to go home.
I ain't got no words.
Wood stork? I'm not sure.
In a roosting tree where other birds were gathered as the sun grew low in the sky.
My husband looking up to see the Mississippi Kites floating above us. There must have been a dozen. We've never seen so many at once.
I've never loved a boat quite like this one. It's flat and goes in the shallows and I steered it for awhile. The steering mechanism works like a rudder and I felt like Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings on one of her trips up the St. John's in which she restored her soul. I felt like a Florida woman, and my skin was cool from my baptism in the water bubbling up from the great aquifer. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
Some Sundays turn out all right.