We are still on the GICW for a little longer. Just past mile marker 164, you take a big left just past red nun 72 and head up into the bayou. It is absolutely gorgeous. We are surrounded on 3 sides by trees. There are pines, cypress, and palm trees lining the banks. There was virtually no wind today, so the water was like glass. We anchored deep in the bayou in 6.7’ of water. More than enough. The silence here is pretty amazing except for the odd private plane that flies over head. We had a wonderful relaxing afternoon. We hung out on deck and read and just talked. Around 5:00 p.m., it started getting really cold again, so we dashed into the cabin, made a fire, and huddled in front of a movie. Dinner was good and we will both turn in early.
I have been out on deck tonight a number of times and am each time struck by the amazing beauty of the bayou at night. The water is like a mirror, so much so that you do not even have to look at the sky to see the stars, as their reflection is just as bright on the surface of the water. There is complete and utter silence, broken only by the sounds made by a giant blue heron working the banks for mullet, or the magpies doing their thing when the sun went down. We have had several meetings with dolphin back here. We’ve seen mothers and infants swimming side by side. Sometimes, there is a third. Could it be the papa?
Tomorrow, we were thinking of taking the dinghy down and doing some exploring further back in the bayou. Then, we will probably move to another place called Robert’s Bayou, affectionately referred to by the locals as “Pirates Cove”. We’ll see. That’s one great thing about what we are doing – we have no schedule to keep, but miles to go before we…….Ok ok. Not my words, but you get the idea. Actually, we are planning on being in or about Port St. Joe’s by next weekend for an informal “Looper” get together hosted by Port St. Joe’s Marina. There are slated to be some informative lectures concerning weather and crossing the Gulf as well as the AICW and Florida. Brenda does not seem to enthusiastic about going off with all the women for champagne and manicures, and would probably rather hang with the guys for bloody mary’s and football next Sunday. We’ll see.
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Sunrise on Ingrams Bayou -
Attempting to describe a sunrise is difficult. How do you find the best words to describe one of God’s finest creations? Does the All Mighty create the sunrise, or did he just put all the pieces in place for it to just happen? It’s different each and every time, so it is impossible to describe it as any sort of recurring event, because it is not. We take it for granted that the sun will come up every day. We should not be so cavalier, however. So to describe the sunrise, is only to relate in words something that is completely unique and different, and ever changing.
The world is colored by every imaginable variation of primary colors. Light is bent through the prism of the atmosphere into many more variations than can be accounted for. You can’t just say the sunrise turned the sky pink, because, in nature, there are thousands and thousands of shades of pink, and orange, and red, and purple, and yellow, and gold, and blue, and magenta, and green, all superimposed on a velvet background, and water so still, it reflects the sky perfectly and in harmony.
It was very cold out this morning. The deck is covered with ice, as is the dinghy, the BBQ, the davit, and even the fenders and lines. There is a small icicle hanging from the life line. Yes, it is very cold out here this morning. But we are warm and tucked into our winter coats and boots, all so we can witness this most astounding scene. The water appears as black glass - obsidian of an unnatural origin, spread out to all banks. There is the “swamp gas” looming just on the surface of the water. It moves outward from the shore, 6 or 7 feet above the surface. The trees are of all shapes and sizes, each one in perfect balance so that they stand straight and tall. Yet, a lone tree, in its perfection, becomes part of a greater whole in this setting. The thousands of trees lining the bayou create a backdrop of green, and brown, and beige, and yellow, and even red. The bending branches and twigs form an impossible number of shapes and shadows, their look constantly changing as the lights come on. Their leaves and needles reflecting every shade. The grasses lining the banks are like a rich and lush carpet of innumerable hues. The sky has changed colors many times since it was first lighted by the sun rising in the east. While it may have once been black, it is never dark, being filled with stars; so many stars that you cannot possibly count them all. But they lay out like a spread of diamonds. You can see them in the sky and you can see them reflected on the calm surface of the water. Now and again, a bird soars overhead. I wonder if it recognizes its reflection in the water. Pelican, Heron, Storke, Egret, Loone, and Cormorant, and many others with which I am not yet familiar all seem to be getting their day under weigh.
Now that the sun is up, the tide is out, and the sandy shores of the bayou are exposed. There are logs and branches, “knees”, and grasses now enjoying the warm sun’s radiation. It’s as if the whole bayou is waking up from a deep sleep. You see, that is one of the most profound differences between sunsets and sunrises. With sunsets, the day leaves and darkness comes. It becomes night, and all but a few of God’s creatures go into hiding to sleep, or to find shelter from the cold night. With sunrises, however, the darkness leaves and the day comes on. There is a “newness” about it; a refreshment of time and space, each day will become another page in history, in science, in biology. It’s like a blooming flower, or the peeling back of the curtains on a great stage. The music begins, the lights come on. Shakespeare was not kidding when he described all the world as a stage. Sunrise does this. It’s a great awakening of all things.
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We had a great day yesterday. We took the dinghy out and explored the rest of Ingrams Bayou. It really is a beautiful place. We saw a number of nests high in the trees that could belong to Eagles. There are birds and deer everywhere and saw a few deer come down to the beach.
A friend of ours commented on a photo we put up of the deer on the beach and noted that this doesn’t look like the kind of bayou most imagine. Whatever one imagines, it’s hard to actually picture until you get here. Thus far, nothing has been as I had imagined. It’s all a mind blowing experience.
So, today, we will be off for an anchorage called Fort McCrea. It is just before the mouth of Pensacola Bay. In other words, we will be crossing the line into the State of Florida today. I understand that from the anchorage, one can watch the Blue Angels practicing high in the sky. It should be cool to see; that is, if they are flying. The weather is kinda sucky today with southeast winds gusting to 20 knots. But, we are in protected waters and will be just fine. I think the Gulf is pretty rough, but the ICW is well protected in this area.
Take care all, and if I don’t talk to you between now and then, have a wonderful and safe New Year’s Eve and a healthy and happy and prosperous new year.
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