Less that a week to go now, and I'm getting butterflies. Mostly just excited butterflies, but still—jumpy tummy. My packing is mostly done, except for the things that I'll be using up to the last minute. I'm still paring my packing. I'm hoping to get it down to two bags and a purse. (So there, Mark!)
II'm not going to write much this evening, because we're battening down the hatches for what they say is going to be a doozy of a storm—sort of a straight-line hurricane—kind of a "tie down your cows" sort of night! (It's called a derecho, which is "right" in Spanish, but I don't see anything very right about it....)
Anyway, I'm including another sample to nibble on, and I'll be giving a small "thank you" gift to the first ten people who comment on here after the storm has passed through Grant County. Let's see who's paying attention. :)
Now, "on with the show":
As she peered through the half-light that she would learn to associate with early morning, she heard Shaddai speak: "Sea life!"
Immediately, the sea began to roll and churn, as if the very water itself were coming to life. In the seeming chaos, Eva caught glimpses of bright and dull colors, flashes of silvery scales, a seeming tangle of fins and tentacles, skin and fur and membranes. Gradually, the confusion began to sort itself out into schools of salmon, pods of whales, clusters of ballooning jellyfish. A giant squid stretched and curled its arms before, with a slow, silent twirl, it gradually sank down into the water and out of sight. She caught only a momentary glimpse of the strange angler fish, with its huge mouth full of long, thorn-like teeth, and the odd, fleshy lure dangling between its eyes. Then it flicked its tail and dove straight down, headed for the dark landscape of the ocean floor where it would find its home.
In the dim light before sunrise, the surface of the ocean glowed with expanses of phosphorescent krill. Eva heard a loud splashing approaching from a distance. As she watched, hundreds of dolphins and sea lions appeared on the horizon, swimming through the sea of krill toward her, their bodies aglow with a film of the microscopic creatures. Breeching and diving, the warm blooded sea creatures seemed to perform an aquatic dance expressing a primitive joy and gratitude for their place in creation.
As the dancing water mammals passed beneath her and vanished in the distance, Eva heard Shaddai speak again. "Birds!" She couldn't have told you how it happened, but instantly the air around her was filled with hundreds—perhaps thousands—of birds of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Hawks and swallows swooped and dove over and under her, circled around her head, and swirled off into the distance. A flock of seagulls and a pair of eagles glided across the sky, rising and falling on the invisible streams of air. Several pelicans and a lone albatross flapped ungracefully past, somehow managing to avoid a collision with the couple dozen dainty, jewel-toned hummingbirds hovering inquisitively around her face.
II'm not going to write much this evening, because we're battening down the hatches for what they say is going to be a doozy of a storm—sort of a straight-line hurricane—kind of a "tie down your cows" sort of night! (It's called a derecho, which is "right" in Spanish, but I don't see anything very right about it....)
Anyway, I'm including another sample to nibble on, and I'll be giving a small "thank you" gift to the first ten people who comment on here after the storm has passed through Grant County. Let's see who's paying attention. :)
Now, "on with the show":
As she peered through the half-light that she would learn to associate with early morning, she heard Shaddai speak: "Sea life!"
Immediately, the sea began to roll and churn, as if the very water itself were coming to life. In the seeming chaos, Eva caught glimpses of bright and dull colors, flashes of silvery scales, a seeming tangle of fins and tentacles, skin and fur and membranes. Gradually, the confusion began to sort itself out into schools of salmon, pods of whales, clusters of ballooning jellyfish. A giant squid stretched and curled its arms before, with a slow, silent twirl, it gradually sank down into the water and out of sight. She caught only a momentary glimpse of the strange angler fish, with its huge mouth full of long, thorn-like teeth, and the odd, fleshy lure dangling between its eyes. Then it flicked its tail and dove straight down, headed for the dark landscape of the ocean floor where it would find its home.
In the dim light before sunrise, the surface of the ocean glowed with expanses of phosphorescent krill. Eva heard a loud splashing approaching from a distance. As she watched, hundreds of dolphins and sea lions appeared on the horizon, swimming through the sea of krill toward her, their bodies aglow with a film of the microscopic creatures. Breeching and diving, the warm blooded sea creatures seemed to perform an aquatic dance expressing a primitive joy and gratitude for their place in creation.
As the dancing water mammals passed beneath her and vanished in the distance, Eva heard Shaddai speak again. "Birds!" She couldn't have told you how it happened, but instantly the air around her was filled with hundreds—perhaps thousands—of birds of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Hawks and swallows swooped and dove over and under her, circled around her head, and swirled off into the distance. A flock of seagulls and a pair of eagles glided across the sky, rising and falling on the invisible streams of air. Several pelicans and a lone albatross flapped ungracefully past, somehow managing to avoid a collision with the couple dozen dainty, jewel-toned hummingbirds hovering inquisitively around her face.
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