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| Guana River |
My trip to Florida, for the second time, was pretty predictable. 5 days on the burning beach, swimming in shark infested waters, getting in tune to the circadian rhythm of quiet mornings, escalating heat of the day culminating in the afternoon thunderstorm clearing out the days calendar of events, the slumber of listening to a fading rumble of thunder, and the second fine day after the storm. Dinners at the strip mall or the club. Evenings on the web catching up to the days misfortunes. The one single thing we did that surprised me was shortly after one of the days thunderstorms forced an end to the beach, Sallie and I headed down the highway to a place we had been to the year before, a place I had forced as a way to see nature and to see maybe what Florida is supposed to look like without makeup. Without anything actually. Just frogs, water, grass, a fading rainstorm.
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