Day 6… already…
Time to Go
Well, the Gulf has gotten rougher since about Wednesday. Not rough like waves breaking over people's
heads, rough the way the Gulf gets: the
waves become more relentless, bringing tons of small shells to cover the shore,
and creating drops just a short way into the surf. I had nearly convinced myself that I would
take one more swim in the beautiful waters, that had gotten so much warmer in a
few days, and then I watched one much younger, fitter dude walk in a few feet
only to crash down the unexpected drop.
Granted the drop is only a foot or two, but climbing out on millions of
bits of shells was an experience I decided, sadly, to avoid.
Then the monsters showed up, three tweens who needed big doses of tranquilizers
far more than they needed a vacation on the Gulf. I figure if this is how bored and crazed they
were on the first day here, probably good that I am leaving tomorrow.
And finally, the radio. Could
not have gone a week without someone deciding they needed to enjoy the Gulf
with background bass.
So, time to go. I will take with
me one image, that of a fisherman, sitting in his chair and running every once
in a while to cast his line. I looked up
to see that he had caught a fish, a good eight inches, sparkling in the
sun. He seemed to be poking it, I
thought trying to get it to lie still so he could take the hook out, but didn't
really seem to have a knack for it. But
he finally got the little guy to do whatever just as his lady friend got the
camera lined up and ready. And then he
let the poor little thing go. Hemingway
scoffs.
I'm missing my cat, but not much else.
I dread the return to work, with all its fears rational and
paranoid. I think of all the dumb things
I have to do when I get home, pay the bills, change the cat litter, do the
laundry, the things that seem to take up way too much time. But what would I do otherwise?
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