Deep south, Georgia, on the Suwannee River. A park off of Interstate 75 that gives weary travelers a break, if headed north maybe a last look at the old time south.
If you were to visit in the summertime you would find that areas like this are ruled by gnats, mosquitos, cicadas and tree frogs. A mishmash of sounds assault your ears as the cicadas and frogs sing their songs while constant buzzing of the mosquitos are in and out of your ears. Don’t worry, the gnats have you eyes and nose occupied.
It’s easy to feel transported to a different time and place where nature rules and man is an afterthought. I can’t wait to go back.
As the snowstorm approaches your mind drifts back to olden days, a long long time ago to a warm day on a faraway beach….
Sunset over the water, warm evening air, smell of a bar-b-que, sounds… friends talking, kids playing in the distance, oil stains on the wood of this old chair, if it could only talk.
The weather is cold here at home, snow showers and windy. I’m not getting much done, daydreaming about somewhere the sun is shining and the weather is warm.
I found the end of a road one day… it was a hot hazy summer day and road ended at a wooden pier overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.
A faint smell of salt in the air with a few lazy gulls gliding around, yeah, I think I have spring fever.