This
post is actually a travelogue but fifty-seven does enter into it. The last eleven days of March began our Great Adventure as my son,
Brian, had agreed to take me on a road trip to Apalachicola, FL—by way of Ft. Worth
so we could pick up his brother,Jeff.
Brian
wanted to see Four Corners, where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona meet and we traveled through Moab, UT to get there
An arch at Moab, UT |
Shiprock, NM |
Further along the trip, he wanted to experience New Orleans. Unfortunately,
that experience did not include a beignet and coffee but a creeping pace around
the French Quarter. (I hope he can go back and actually enjoy New Orleans someday).
French Quarter--cheek by jowl |
We
arrived at our friends’ home in FL and enjoyed wonderful visiting time (we
hadn’t seen each other in 35 years) and awesome food cooked by my friend, Sara. Her menus included fresh (meaning it was in its watery home just the night before)
shrimp and red snapper. I would not want to have to rate the food against the
renewing of old ties as it was all such an awesome time.
Brian
wanted to get a picture of the sun setting on the water so Sara took us to the
beach and I decided to get my feet wet. It so happens that I don’t like to be
in water deeper than a bathtub so you can imagine how I cut off the circulation
in Brian’s hand the first time the tide came onto the beach—and my feet. The
sight of that wave of water coming at me as well as the unfamiliar sound, truly
was an eerie experience, but one repeated several times. I marveled at the way
the water surged in and then out, leaving an expanse of sand as smooth as glass.
To add to the special experience, a lone sandpiper walked down the beach in
front of us (we were sitting on lawn chairs by this time), checking for
edibles. He obviously was not afraid of people because it wasn’t long before he
walked back from the other direction. He didn’t return again so I guess he
filled his tummy or decided another location would be more fruitful.
The tide and Pat's feet |
During
our conversation I realized that I’d been fairly close to this part of Florida
before—fifty-seven years ago my high school senior trip had Pensacola Beach as
one of its destinations. Turns out I had never been back to a beach on the Gulf
since then, so everyone agreed that it was high time I had returned. After all,
everyone should dabble their feet in (sort of) the Atlantic Ocean at least
twice in fifty-seven years.
My
beach experience led me to try my hand at writing some haiku which is a
three-line poem made up of five, then seven, then five syllables. (They are separate thoughts.)
Beach
Haikus
Tide
rolls in, rumbling
Smoothing
sand like a mirror
Sandpiper
distorts
As
tide smoothes the sand
Man
ponders troublesome life
Seeking
that smoothness
Our
return west to Tucson took nearly four days crossing bits of Alabama and
Mississippi, the length of Louisiana and Texas and of course including New
Mexico and Arizona. We walked a portion of the River Walk and saw the Alamo in
San Antonio
Bridge over River Walk |
Muddy Boots visits the Alamo |
We travelled on through TX and visited a quasi-Prada store outside of Marfa as well as “experiencing” several trios of concrete "boxes without topses" on an acreage outside of that same town.
Quasi-Prada outside of Marfa |
Would you believe, their inventory |
Fourteen sets of these!!!! |
Old Bisbee copper mine |
RV Park where the vehicles don't roll |
Happy to say, Aunt Dorothy had a nice birthday celebration, Jeff flew home (by the hardest) and we arrived back in Elko after two weeks absence.
Aside
from the wonderful visits with friends and relatives and the good food we ate, Jeff said his
favorite experience was climbing the lighthouse on St. George Island (which has
had a hard life of being moved more than once, falling into the gulf and being
put together again, better than Humpty Dumpty).
My favorite was the second time in fifty-seven years experience with the Gulf-Atlantic Ocean. However, I don't want to leave out our friends and relatives, the Rundletts, Cousin Kate and ending with our favorite B and B hostess in Las Vegas.
My sweet friend, Nancy |
As for Brian, it was probably all the great pictures he took, but also the realization that he had driven almost 5555 miles in two weeks into or across nine states and crossed three time zones—twice!
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