The snow has left us but Old Man Winter is still around. I captured this photo at Jenkins Creek. I love the way our crab shanties remind us of the warm weather to come.
The Shanties of Summer
The sun retreats behind winter clouds that come and
stay playing their evilistic games – was there ever a
summer or was it only a dream that crept under our
bed-covers while we slept piled high with
cotton and down?
Was there a ever a time when the sun touched our
skin and permeated our bones so that we
felt like indolent paralyzed sloths that could not
would not move? Oh, the importance of doing nothing.
Was there a ever a time when we squinted our soulful eyes into the
warmth of a setting sun – sky ablaze and turned
away feeling not fit to gaze upon her godly colors?
Was there a ever a time when we rose to
the gossip of birds a golden patch of softness tickling our
cheeks bidding us “rise and shine?”
The winter demons that fly round
our heads are no match for sleeping fishing
shanties – they slap us in the face validating that
winter is a malevolent lie that nags nags.
Throw off the winter lies that detonate the ennui in your
mind prepare for the ecstasy of summer – she is
real! Just ask the shanties the shanties the
shanties of summer.