Man, I must be getting old
So, it's Saturday evening, I'm blogging, drinking a "Christmas" bock (thank you, friend Jerry), and listening to Donovan, "Donna Donna" just now. A little earlier, Gerri and I had our often easy meal of rice and steamed veggie, this time broccoli. And a little later, we'll watch As Time Goes By, with Dame Judi Dench and Geoffrey Palmer--wouldn't it be so nice to be that decent even in our grumpiness?
But earlier today, we were rather virtuous, or rather Gerri was and I tagged along. We attended a regional Audubon council, talking about a gazillion environmental issues: phosphate mines and the Peace River, the creating of "swamp ranches" north of Lake O, the unregulated run-off of household fertilizers into the Caloosahatchee, the fresh water dump from Lake O into the Caloosahatchee, and other water-related issues. We even got up at 5:00 a.m., to help set up breakfast, but also to tool on the Caloosahatchee in a pontoon. Lots of manatees, brown pelicans, tree swallows, and an occasional wood stork, and even an exotic feral pig along the way.
Ah, here is a great blue heron, just to the right of the mangroves and brazilian pepper, flying toward the I-75 bridge that spans the Caloosahatchee.
And here are the remains of a grounded barge (from the 1930s, I was told) nearby the oldest marina in the Fort Myers area, built by the Menge brothers who started a steamboat and dredging business in the 1880s. Technically, this is on the Orange River, which feeds into the Caloosahatchee, for those of you who insist on an accurate scorecard.
Of course, it was just a relief to be talking with some like-minded folk, trying to lay out some pragmatic and balanced plans to bring to a more friendly national legislature and a more friendly governor's cabinet. So to be on a slow moving river, something broaded-hearted and restive, was centering and deepening, even while there's talk of a temporary "surge" in a war that we intiated four years ago, or even closer, while there's talk of classifying this distressed and great river as an industrial canal so that water standards need not be met.
Okay, so now Donovan is singing about riding easy, in his wonderful fare-welling song, "Turquoise." And I can remember when he was this young, fragile, small little love-child singer, so airy and of no consequence. Tonight, at least, his music seems rather wide to me. So that is something, too.