I can't help it ...
I wasn't quite done ...
There's always more to do ... and say ...
Images from one day spill over into the next ...
To be addressed ... or not ...
As nothing is EVER really left behind ...
And I'm not a poet (!!). So back to those outer reaches of Ocean Drive where I stopped on my bike at the rocky inlet just beyond Wild Acre and again at the bridge (Green Bridge?? Green Cove Bridge??) just because a few random images grabbed me, and I didn't get to all of them yesterday.
There was — let's see — that blue, tethered, tattered (or the flag was tattered) boat delivering all manner of mixed messages in the cove ... an out-of-focus swan with brown twigs in the foreground stealing whatever clarity might have existed otherwise (but fuzzy images are often nicer than the real thing anyway) ... an empty raft where I could almost see/hear/feel not just my kids swimming and diving and cannonballing and laughing but my childhood self doing all those things at any number of assorted ponds, way back when.
I even remember the bathing suit I was wearing ...
Then I did the unthinkable: I turned and went back — on my bike, I mean. Didn't go "around" The Drive. I wanted to return (and in this case I could return) the same way I'd come, all the way to the beginning, to catch a few things I'd missed, especially as time was ticking, the sky was graying, the sun was getting ready to set ...
In the interest of tying up loose ends, it was Green Bridge on Gooseneck Cove. I looked it up ...
