A great egret patrols the shallows across the bayou. Another races its reflection along the still water. The rising winter sun lights the tops of the cypress trees on the near shore. These are the sights that greet me with my morning coffee.
The winter here is quiet, so unlike the warmer seasons: no jet skis, no pleasure boating, just the birds and the occasional silver mullet breaking the surface of the water.
The winter here is quiet, so unlike the warmer seasons: no jet skis, no pleasure boating, just the birds and the occasional silver mullet breaking the surface of the water.
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Comments are always from "anonymous". Often I can identify the author by the content of the comment, but that much cogitation makes my 80 year-old brain tired. Please help out an old man and identify yourself within the text of the comment. Thanks for the comments whether or not you ID yourself. Tom