Her hand broke through the loamy earth so long ago.
The richness of her breath reaches my nostrils
as I lay cradled in the shady ferns.
Her skin is deep and furrowed
Dark brown and damp it plays host to many soft things that like to hide at the edge of sight.
She reaches thick fingers up toward the light that she no longer needs.
Great and ancient is her tongue
but the people no longer hear her voice
For, she speaks no more
Resting
Waiting
To fall.
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Photo by Monica Molina of a kayaker on the river.
The Chicks with Ticks will be present at the Speak up for Silver Springs and Florida’s Water event on June 23 10-4 at Silver River State Park. We will be representing Amec at booth 20!
Here’s your chance to meet us and see just how nerdy we really are while supporting an amazing event. Florida’s springs, and waters in general, are suffering. Help us preserve the future of Florida’s water and nature’s beauty by attending this super event at an amazing State Park.
http://www.floridastateparks.org/silverriver/
You can get details regarding the park at the above link.
Photo by Charlene Knight of the calm water of Silver River.
We love Florida! Show us what you love!!
MikeOffThe Map was in our neck of the woods. Take a look at his Everglades, FL adventures! Thanks for sharing Mike!
The rain tickled as it fell softly at first. It quickly became a downpour as we mucked across the soft ground. It felt so good to feel the wet on my skin sneaking through my shirt. The pat h was leading us to the river. It had been so long. We had been so sad and lost. One forgot how strong the pull of the water is when one was away so long.
Our mood changed. We became lighter. The harder deluge only made us laugh more. Kristen started puddle jumping and I laughed out loud and took fun photos. We could see the creek now. We were so close.
Soaking we continued to splish and splosh as we slogged our way ever closer to the river. To our Peace. It was hard not to run. We never said it aloud but I know she felt the pull as much as I did.
Rain on the river.
As we rounded the bend, frog songs greeted us. There is was, running quickly. Shallow and green laughing just like us over the rocks it went. I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Down to the river we went in the pouring rain. We stood in the middle for a while. I don’t know how long we stood there smiling. Soaking up the life of the rushing water. Soaking up the Peace.
Dripping life on the forest.
We forded and explored the riverbank. Dripping and wet and green. We turned to look back at the Peace. For a moment it was silent. For a second or two I know it happened. We went wild.
Looking through the forest by the river the temptation was strong to keep walking into the wet green woods. We could find things. We would see things. Hear things. Know things.
The moment passed. We turned to retrace our steps back to the water’s edge. It was time to go back. Once we crossed that green tumbling water, we would be us again. Renewed, refreshed, but still the ache would come.
Bittersweet rain fell on our shoulders as we forced words. We dallied here and there looking back on our muddy footsteps on the trail. The melancholy call of the woods continued to follow us as we slowly made our way back to the shelter.
It was hard to say where the tears stopped and the rain started.
You know we all want to make things better. We want to make a positive difference. I just couldn’t hold my tongue any longer!
Stop “saving” things please. I am just as guilty as you! Today I “saved” a softshell turtle that was enjoying a muddy swim during a heavy downpour. Saved is probably not what the turtle felt. It probably felt scared, man handled, and slightly confused as to why I took it out of the muddy yummy road and put it on the dry grassy roadside.
Rare things don’t always need us to save them.
I also have co-workers who “save” a lot of plants. Some of these plants grace their desks or cubicles in a modge podge of dishes filled with weird materials….they always look out of place….after all, we don’t work in a temperate wetland forest or damp meadow….it is a flourescent lighted, air-conditioned, dry, urban office space. Not at all what most orchids consider lovely.
I know our hearts are in the right place, but I just can’t take it any more. These things we feel we are saving have a proper place. A place where they belong – it’s probably not your desk or the bed of a truck or even a roadside.
Some of these things are going to die. They are going to wither when the limb they were attached to falls in a storm, they will get smashed by a truck, they will cease to grow. It’s okay! Really. The circle of life will continue for almost all of them without our interference.
It’s going to be difficult for you to stop. Some of you are addicted! I know you so don’t try to hide it. We will work through this together. Maybe we will form a sort of support group….Savers Annonymous….just give it a go. Please!
Chicks With Ticks 