Bacon on the Bookshelf

Savory picks for the free range reader

The Yellow Pail

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I walked too far on a cold, grey day – all the way to the Portman house. It’s a local landmark for obvious reasons.

There was nothing to be done except walk back, the hardware in my left ankle moaning. Or at least complaining.

These are some things I saw…

A boy, alone, rode his bicycle

While two small castles returned to dust.

A yellow pail – left behind – grieved.

Then things started to get creepy. A jaw bone appeared.

A giant spider visited

the wild mushrooms. Who even knew that wild mushrooms grow in the sand?

A conch stood tall – inexplicably – held up at gunpoint?

While the sand dollar glistened and hid.

Finally: a powdered doughnut appeared on the path.

The path less traveled, to say the least. A quiet path, out of the way. On the way back home.

I took that as a good sign.

*     *     *

At home I was happy to settle in with pigs in a blanket

10 Comments

  1. Lovely – the verbal and photo images. And a pretty hand.

  2. Indeed I adore the workings of your mind and eye!

  3. Love that you’re getting a chance to breathe deeply the salty air at Sea Island.

  4. Your close attention to details helps other see, and in my case, be a bit envious of a day on the beach. Thanks for sharing.

  5. I can almost feel the sea breeze on me… and such beautiful shells…thank you for sharing a bit of the ocean with us!

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