The Wee Hours

Zero two hundred and I find myself in the kitchen building a bean soup for today's dinner.  Silence extends from my home into the darkness and it gives me time to think and dream on my feet.

I've noticed my hands give the sharp scent of onion and bacon and just now I get a whiff of fresh brewed coffee. Even though a book awaits my attention I think I'll draw a cup and take a walk, perhaps check the rivers tide.

Besides, the water and salt marsh smell nice this time of the morning, and if one stands quietly, the soft click of the fiddler crabs keep beat with the lap of the shallow waves.

Strange how the lack of sleep attunes our senses.

Stephen

Just Another Wednesday

I've grown webbed feet. My gills have formed and I'm certain this green stuff on my arms is algae.

It itches.

My rain gauge has been emptied twice and both times it overflowed. It holds just a tad over six inches.

We're wet, and the rivers and creeks of this area are well above flood stage. Welcome to sunny Florida.

Sorry for the silence. My internet went out yesterday, early. Not so bad as it gave me a chance to read and watch the down-pour. Went home and continued to read, and watch the steady and unrelenting rain.

My driveway slopes up and then flattens at the top. I keep our travel trailer parked back and next to our privacy fence. When I arrived home it was parked in about two inches of water. A mess of leaves and debris had formed a dam where the upper and lower driveway meet. I kicked and scrapped and stood back and watched the rush of water as it flowed down my drive and into the street. The waters came within a few inches of flooding my garage.

Fiddler crabs now graze my lawn.

Reports are the groups's bug out location, the Boar's Nest, is now occupied by catfish. The building sits high on piers so hopefully the interior is dry. We have an old Airstream travel trailer parked nearby and I'm hopeful my ammo cans are water tight. I'd hate to lose thousands of dollars of ammunition, and other preps, but I'm sure the trailer is flooded.

The local horse, pastured next door, has taken his weekly bath.

Hey, I've business to run. See you good folks later.

Stephen