Saturday morning I had no idea I’d be sipping a beer at noon at a corner cafe in the small port town of Apalachicola. Having had the most luxurious night of sleep I’ve experienced in years, I lingered in bed feeling as if I’d been kissed by an angel.
Of course, it was probably only Studly Doright who’d pecked me on the brow on his way to the golf course. I guess his grey hair was halo-like in the semidarkness, but you never know.
Before showering I looked on Facebook and read a post about an art walk in Apalachicola. Knowing that Studly would be tied up with his favorite hobby well into the afternoon I made haste with my shower and got on the road.
I’ve written about Apalachicola before. The quaint fishing village on Florida’s forgotten coast is known for oysters and sponges and apparently, art.
I snapped a few photos as I walked about town:
I even purchased a photograph (below) by and directly from photojournalist Richard Bickel whose work has appeared in National Geographic Traveler, Conde Naste Traveler, Newsweek, and other publications of note. It makes me happy.
After a lunch of salmon and grapefruit salad (oddly wonderful) at Tamara’s Cafe, I drove across the bridge to Eastpoint and then crossed another bridge for my first taste of the beach this year on Saint George Island.
Studly Doright doesn’t understand my attraction to the ocean. I tell him I have a compulsion to be in the presence of sand and waves and water, but the only sand and water he acknowledges are on the golf courses he plays, and he does his best to avoid landing in either.
So I sent him this photo, and told him sand was a good thing. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t impressed.
I’m already planning my next beach day.
I’m no photographer. In fact, Mr. Kodak and Mr. Polaroid will come together in Kodachrome Instamatic heaven to weep inconsolably at my ineptitude, but if it reunites them can that be a bad thing?
But even the worst photographer gets a break now and then. This is most likely the most beautiful photo ever taken by anyone. I believe the photography gods were smiling down on me on this one allowing me to capture my niece Hanna on her wedding day in Guatemala.
So take that, Mr. Kodak and Mr. Polaroid. And even that Ansel Adams dude.
Once filled with children
Most earnestly ciphering
Only ghosts now count.
crisp golden aspens
burst full with autumn’s glory
along Old Lyme Creek
Behind this door lies
Madness, maybe, or magic.
Only time may tell.
Green doorway beckons,
Oft polished tiles pave the way
Stay wary, be wise.
From ether appeared
Long-limbed, staff-carrying Mage.
My breath caught; exhaled.
“Magician, tell me
Secrets from beyond grave’s door.”
“Those must wait,” he said,
“For your own demise,
Your journey beyond life’s pale
Do not hurry there!”
Again I begged the wizard,
“A hint, please of what’s to come!”
Wickedly, he smiled,
“Child, ask me no more!
Twice have I refused your bid
Thrice will serve you not!”
But eager was I
To know secrets dark and deep
Again I bade him,
“Answer me! ‘Tis truth I seek!”
Rakishly grinned he,
“You should have escaped, my dear,
Now face your nightmare!”
Force flew from his hand,
A blinding light soon followed
To my knees I fell
Trembling with fear
Awestruck by his power play.
“Enough,” I cried. “Please!”
“Your pleas fail to halt
The mighty powers I have
Set into motion.”
Now in this casket
I am sealed without a hope
Of ever leaving,
Of ever loving,
But at least I still have a
Wicked way with words.
Killed the cat I’ve heard it said.
And it entombed me.
I snapped these photos in Antigua, Guatemala, at la Casa de Santa Domingo, a hotel built around the ruins of an ancient monastery. Sometimes my imagination has its way with me.
I am perhaps the least photogenic person on this planet, so there are very few photos of me worth sharing. And, it’s not that I look particularly great in this photo, but it appears that someone is looking at me in an admiring manner.
Lest anyone think that was the case, let me reassure you that shortly after this was snapped my “admirer” asked politely if he could please cross in front of me to go to the restroom.
Yep, I have that effect on men.
The Daily Prompt asked, “Do you like hot and spicy foods, or do you avoid them for fear of what tomorrow might bring?”
I like my food hot.
The kind of heat that
Makes me wipe the
Sweat from my
Brow as I eat.
Any residual suffering
For the sake of spiciness
Should be borne with
Stoicism and great
Those who read my blog posts on a regular basis (God bless you faithful few) know that I’ve been in Antigua, Guatemala, these past few days to celebrate the marriage of my beautiful niece Hanna and her handsome beau, Beto.
On Friday, April 11, family, friends, and a handful of complete strangers joined Beto and Hanna on a mountain far above Antigua for one of the most joyous occasions I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness.
The bride. 😊 Her dad is the proud-looking man just behind Hanna.
Cutting the wedding cake never looked quite so romantic before.
Mother of the bride, Hanna, Father of the bride and lovely niece Lauren.
My gorgeous niece, Claire, sister of the bride.
This is me standing in the doorway of Hobbitenango.
Hobbitenango is a tavern and hostel owned by my new nephew and his business partners. The buildings that make up Hobbitenango are all Eco-friendly, made from reclaimed lumber, plastic bottles, and egg cartons.
Still in its early phases of development, Hobbitenango will one day have individual hobbit style houses for guests to rent, and once the shire is complete they’ve planned to create an Ewok village.
I urged them to hurry–I’m not getting any younger.
Niece Lauren and my sister-in-law, Susan.
Delightful Andrea, (one of Beto’s cousins) with her mother. I’ve never met more loving, welcoming people.
The rest I didn’t caption. I’ve run out of superlatives.
Hobbitenango is ringed by four volcanoes. Just at sunset, Fuego, put on a small show for those of us remaining. Of course, my battery was dead, so I had to borrow a photo from my brother’s camera.
Needless to say it was a sight I will not soon, if ever, forget.