Thursday, July 9

Great Things Happen

I swam a half mile today during the afternoon swim session with Susanna. What a great workout- especially with using the fins. The surf was not too harsh nor too calm, which was Goldilocks-style, just right. I snorkeled along at high-speed and watched the corals and fish pass through my mask's view. I saw a school of jacks skipping across the surface chasing their dinner. I scanned the water for any neat creatures like a seahorse or sea turtle but found only more spiny sea urchins and more parrot fish. The views underwater are endless and always full of so much life! The water is about as clear as every swimming pool I've ever been in. I think today I could see about 30-40 feet. Not bad.

I'm on a mission to do some more exploring. I've only done the Francis bay loop and a portion of the Leinster Bay Trail. Of all the hikes surrounding me, I'm sad to report I've only done one in three weeks. I must do more hiking! Fortunately, all is not lost- as part of my internship, I'm supposed to conduct or co-conduct a visitor risk assessment. That is, help the park find places where visitor safety could be improved. Along the trails, there are usually plenty of places were a warning that rocks are slippery when wet, steep drops ahead, etc could help a clueless hiker. I don't want to create an obnoxious laundry list for someone to fix and repair what isn't broken, but I would like to see areas where visitors are commonly trekking around the park and make sure there aren't any previously unrecognized hazards where something should and could be done. I'll have to strap on my boots and see what my eyes find. I'm excited!

I started working on a new piece of fiction tonight. I thought I'd share the fruits of my labor and see what everyone thinks... please post comments below if you're reading this and have something to say!

Tree frogs chirp across the landscape that unfolds before me. A small weight blows in the light breeze causing the wind chime to bless my ears with the hollow melody of bamboo stalks. Slow-moving clouds are dark grays back-lit by a series of rose colored cirrus streaks across the sky. Miniature iguanas, or very-Caribbean lizards, approach my plastic lawn furniture. Their small webbed palms and feet lightly tread across the tile floor; they are nimble and quick. Saharan dust clouds the vanishing horizon. Crisp sea air blows in from the bay below and mingles with the smell of melting cheese and buttery vegetables sizzling in the wok.

A local by the name of Crusty Pete swaggers into my yard. “What've you got brewing in thar?”

“Hey Pete, it's just some veggies au gratin, how are you?”

“Fine, fine, and you?”

We go on and review our day and all that may be of interest since we spoke last, which was a few hours ago. I comment on the dust affecting the sunrise. He slowly rubs his peppery beard and asks if he can borrow, permanently, a taste of some Black Strap from my liqour cabinet. A round for both of us is the only way
to get Pete back on the trail leading to his mooring.
© Sarah Bowman

Rats: 6 (3 were caught by Dwight, 3 by Beth)

I need to improve on my hunting skills. The most popular spot for success is just outside my window on the iron stairs into the attic. The live traps have the unfortunate side-effect which includes me hearing their teeth gnawing on the metal all night long. I would much rather they decide to eat the peanut butter bait on the snap traps. We also have a bait/poison station outside, which reminds me of the ones I usually see outside of restaurants. Gross.