Kayaking back into the red mangroves, it gets quieter, the water a clear green. But the seven o’ clock breeze is what we really notice. It comes every few minutes and moves through us. The sky is a light blue, opaque in the west where a few puffs of clouds gather, and the sun is making its descent.
The rain began. Sprinkles popping on the table umbrella above as I continued to write. I was trying to finish up a scene in the latest chapter of the novel. I hadn’t written much lately, and a writer can’t walk out on productivity too early. So I kept on writing. That’s when I got some company. She did a backflip from the top of a telephone pole straight down onto the perch of my birdfeeder in the backyard. In the light rain, the Red-bellied Woodpecker reached up from the perch to peck away at the bird feed.
I came to a quick stop and looked up to the big Great Horned Owl perched atop a tree, squawking her alarm. She stared down at this invader with a look of incredulity, then took off, big wings flapping the cool dusk air. Less than a minute later, an Osprey was circling above in a big loop that made it look like the bird was flying straight into the clouds. The Everglades is an amazing place at sunset.
I was sick for ten days, and the whole time all I could think about was getting better so I could lace up the hiking boots or clip into the bike pedal. Today was the first day I felt somewhat normal; I think I was about seventy-five percent recovered, which is good enough for a little hike around the nearby nature preserve.