Oldest clothes on, stocking cap
She gardens, and time stands still.
Surrounding humanity moves on, racing.
Calling out from the porch,
She turns at the sound of my voice.
Her own personal Eden.
The glory shines around her.
I'm a mountain girl at heart. I've grown up near them, and love their steadyness and continuity. But there comes a time when the seashore calls your heart--a little. And it seems that, so far, it's only called me to one spot in particular: Cumberland Island. It's a bit of Eden on the Atlantic with coastal forest combined with the seashore.
Becca and I have tried to make it a tradition to go there every year around Christmas break, and this year, for the first time, we'll be camping with just us two. The plan is to camp for two days, then go back to civilization for a bit before heading home. the only thing I'm really gonna miss is Ben and Sharon... the last time we were there camping, they were there too. But, then, that was the trip of the imfamous boat troubles--and the late afternoon kayak sprees--(grin). And that hardly compares to the first year, with our tent-pole troubles, and Sharon's and my rolling luggage. The lady-Ranger loved us, though. I think she thought we were plucky. And I have to say, we were.
We'll leave the mountains for the rest of the year.
Christmas is for the coast.
From almost a year ago.
That's the reason I needed a digital camera... eek.
But here's some hilights:
First: the entry about the trip.
Now: Some pictures: