Tuesday Morning, Nov. 8, 2011
It is cool out, about 65 degrees. I can hear the wind in the trees, the bird’s chirping, the cars rushing by on 98.
My father would be able to tell me the names of the bird’s whose sweet sound I focus on.
The sound of the traffic is minimal in my mind.
It is fall here in the Deep South.
Though the change of seasons is much less apparent here, it is there just the same.
There is less humidity in the air and so the sky is much clearer.
When the midday sun hits the bay, it “sparkles like diamonds,” as my father would say.
The seaweed and algae are gone and so the Gulf is crystal clear too.
The Bull Rays migrate this time of year and are a joy to see “flying” through the green waters in schools.
The Sea Oats have scattered their seeds and are now just tall stems swaying
in the grass in the wind.
The beaches are less crowded and the wildflowers are in bloom.
Bright yellow and deep red dot the end of the Island and in the woods there
are accents of a pale purple too.
My mother would know all the names of the wildflowers.
I will learn them with time.