THE GOLDEN HOUR ARRIVES |
Recently, I found myself in a small, backwater, coastal town
down in Florida. So remote was the place
that most
of the inhabitants spend their entire lives searching for it.
Only a few are successful.
Caladesi Island State Park, Dunedin, Fl |
My excuse was a wrong turn down a sandy, palm
tree
lined road, and you know the kind, where the grass
grows in the middle and
red headed lizards wait
for prey in the soft, white sand tracks among the pines.
FISH HAWK AKA OSPREY |
The voice of the Fish Hawk lead me towards a small marina
hidden by thick mangroves, on a day so hot the plastic
wood dock threatened to
melt into ice cube trays to cool off.
(You
remember ice cube trays, I’m sure, right?).
After moments of searching I have found concrete proof
of what happens to sailors who fail to sail often enough.
The poor creatures are hard to find. Now I know why.
There were no witnesses when I first saw the couple, out
of the
corner of my eye, sitting on the dock. I
wasn’t sure
what my corner eye saw initially, except the couple
were, in fact, contemplating climbing aboard a nice
blue sailing cruiser. They did not seem to move,
at least not
quickly.
The sailors, you must understand, had been too long
ashore, lost their sea legs and
much in the way
galvanized steel turns to rust, they had turned to stone.
Worse, they had become... Well - Squirrels.
SAILING HIDEAWAY Another Adventure Begins |
Don’t let this
happen to you!
Untie that boat! Raise her
sails!
Let your inner stone squirrel fly
free!
SMALL BOATS ROCK!