View From The Porch

It's a calm cool (68 degree) evening. Mommy and the Booglet are asleep. The night slips in with a new moon pass. This time next week we'll all be singing Van Morrison's tune, stolen from Alan Watts "Cloud Hidden, Whereabouts Unknown." Excuse me for just a little while--I have some fish to deal with. And a little girl.

Sweetheart, I write this for you, knowing that you may read it far in the future. So know this about our wild adventure--your Mother and I used to roam Cape San Blas with little on either. We used to both romp around naked, playing in the surf. Now we need to show you the grassflats, the oysters, the majesty of nature...

Sugary Bear, there are other forces at work--forces we don't understand or appreciate--but none of them will stand in the way of our time together. Time for me to look in your clear brown eyes and say, "let's go play."

That is the greatest gift of all: that time you give me. It's all I could have ever wanted. It's more than I deserve.