Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Today is sunny and warm, a welcome change from yesterday’s chilly offering. The river is down a few additional inches and noticeably clearer—the perfect clarity and volume to practically guarantee a great day’s fishing. Alas! I still have to go rummaging in the attic for my venerable canvas suitcase. This entails moving and placing the stepladder below the access hatch in the hall, clambering up into what’s bound to already be an overheated space that’s, dusty, low-ceilinged, and poorly lit—then crawling around opening various flap-lidded plastic tubs until I luck upon the one holding duffle bags and the desired suitcase. On the whole, I’d rather go fishing. But, tomorrow morning I must flee with the dawn, southward, pick up my daughter and son-in-law at their place 20 miles from here on the other side of town. We’ll load their stuff and then drive a few more miles south to the son-in-law’s father’s place. There we’ll unload from the truck and reload our stuff in his car—whereupon the four of us will hastily decamp down the Interstate for a 14-hour, 900-mile drive to St. Augustine, Florida. Oh, what unmitigated joy doth await! Perhaps you wonder why I might choose to abandoned my beloved river, this lovely spring-greening acre, replete with newly arriving and loud-singing birds, chattering squirrels, catchable fish, multicolored and ephemeral wildflowers, and countless similar vernal treasures too numerous to list—riches almost beyond measure!—for a land whose best notion of seasons is apparently serving up one warm and sunny day after another? Not that such a monostrophic cycle constitutes seasons…just season, in the singular. The same old same old. Yawn! But I digress… We travel southward to this land of flip-flops and sunblock because my daughter and her husband have decided to renew their marriage vows. The first version took well enough; but the spirit of marital bliss has apparently moved anew upon them and they now feel the need to do the ceremonial gig again, except this time with sand between their toes and the blue Atlantic lapping nearby. Naturally, such things are best accomplished among family and friends, kith and kin. Even if you have to stuff one or the larger of them in the car with you and haul his sorry carcass all the way to Florida. Family comes first. Always. Especially those whom you love more than your own life’s breath. It will therefore likely be a bit quieter here on Riverdaze until after the first of next week—though I might be compelled to post something. To reiterate the verse from the Book of Proverbs which appears at the top of this blog, "…thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." Amen to that! I’m willingly going to Florida. Miracles really do happen. Just don’t allow too much spring to pass without me.