S U N D A Y M O R N I N G S

just five more minutes, pleeeeeease.

S U N D A Y M O R N I N G S

bird conversations mix with the crackling sound of electricity. nature and man are both vibrantly alive.

spring hammock preserve embodies an eerie stillness. the half hidden paths are haunting if stared at too long. this is not a trek to do alone if your imagination precedes you. i brought a friend i knew would enjoy the trails.

the air smelled of honey, fresh cut wood, and mint. the trail toward lake jessop was calming. not once did an animal alarm us...except the wolf pack that came out of no where and which were thankfully accompanied by a human.

we froze in our path, staring at its patterned body as we mumbled the schoolyard chant. red on black, venom lacks, red on yellow kills a fellow. red on yellow. red on yellow. i held my breath. of course we would encounter the poisonous kind of that rhyme. the coral snake scampered off the path. jeannette and i did the same in the opposite direction, fear mixed with awe.

S U N D A Y M O R N I N G S

shrouded in dense fog. jacksonville looked like death. i half expected the ferry man to fade into existence and carry me away on styx. i tried not to stir the gemini but they are light sleepers i suppose. i am ashamed to admit that after knowing them so long, i am just now able to tell them apart. maybe because i usually got them  together and never separately.

it is no surprise that i found myself at a dead end. nothing familiar. all directions seemed like the right path. with a ten foot visibility, the geese were lucky.

standing on the landing, i saw bridges waiting to be crossed. my plan was to conquer most of them by foot, but after my triumph over one, the river grew wider and longer, and domination seemed exhausting. i paid charon his fare and took the river taxi over to other side, fighting against current, feeling as though the boat were treading in one spot, but reassured of our movement as we passed under the bridge. no troll there today.

just a stillness.

S U N D A Y M O R N I N G S

i woke this morning to chase the fog and its obscurity. 

that gypsy dog wished me luck, her eyes begging me to take her.

the roads are thick with the albedineity of a fallen sky that nestles in between brick and branch. this is probably the only time i enjoy the ambiguity, the mystery in my journey, taking turns where the paths lay unseen. but the sun was too fast for me, and dissipated secrecy.

i found myself in winter garden, named after a season we do not claim. where honey and orange intertwine and settle in abandoned crevices. the melancholic great lake apopka broods far beyond me. i might as well be looking across the atlantic.

what surprises the earth unveils when wandering in the unknown.