Edisto 4

 

February 6, 2023

Evening. Two days blend together, so I might tell of them without sequence. Flushed an osprey out of a tree, and saw in his claw a squirrel. If I thought they fished only, I am corrected. We went to a nature preserve higher up the island, where old rice fields– those which aren’t still rice fields–are left flooded for wildlife. An abundance of coots. Met a worker who confirmed our suspicions about mosquitos, and referred to “the mosquito dance” tourists do when they get out of their cars in summer unprotected. Ran afoul of fire-ants and ended the hike scraping the stinging devils off my foot into the fountain of the plantation house. May the tadpoles have the good of them. Much walking on many beaches late in the afternoon, with only my T-shirt. Removed my shoes and waded in the surf, which, though cold, was not THAT cold, up to the ankles.  My feet felt reborn afterward. Fed a pair of sandpipers, perhaps my favorite thing this vacation. Bigger pieces they skittered down to the waves to soften. I longed for them, felt forlorn when the male hurried the female along in their crepuscular foray. Bursts of white far out which I kept hoping were more than the blunt dives of pelicans. Met friendly dogs. Sat on a wooden bench and wept for a while. I came to Edisto when I began my career at UNCA, return to it now that it is ended. Can I truthfully say anything happened in between? Maybe I was put into a mood by the insane perfection of the light.