You can feel the change of the season. This morning, everything feels different. It feels like fall.
The thick wet heat of last week has given way to drier, cooler air. But it isn’t just the change in the weather, it is more subtle. The energy of the people has shifted; now it is time to get back to work.
Labor Day Weekend is over.
Last night, we drove the half-mile down the road to Illiniwek Park to use the showers. There had been a big Democratic Party rally there yesterday afternoon. By 6 PM, all the day-visitors were gone, as were most of the campers. The park was quiet, almost deserted. The sun was setting a fiery red, the water a deep silver blue with small black wave-shadows dancing, dancing. The pavilion tents were still up, but empty. Some sort of small moth-like creature had apparently just hatched—there were millions of them swarming around the street lights. They danced, too, like clouds of prescient dust, and when we drove through them it was like driving through snow.
This morning, I woke to the cries of geese honking, gathering, perhaps to plan their journey south. It feels like I am nine years old and it is the first day of a new school year.
Summer’s hurrah is ended for this year. Campground rules will change; it will be easier to find a spot, and one won’t have to move campgrounds as often.
We are here until the 15th or whenever the shipment arrives from London. Last week, our air conditioner died and we had to replace it with a new one. Thank Spirit for making it so we had the money to do so. Today we will be trading our Ford Explorer for a Ford Ranger—a toad car for the open road, placing last minute things in storage. We gather our power, our strength, put our house in order, as we plan for our long-distance launch. I’m nervous, but I've never been happier.
This month should bring communication from a big publisher, communication that might very well change my life forever—this time in a good way. We head to Colorado and from there to points west and south.
We met another family, living in their pop-up camper: Jennifer and Chuck and their two teenage children. They are another hard-working family who lost their home to foreclosure, ineligible for the government-assisted refinancing. So many of us. How many nationwide? And why, how can this happen in one of the wealthiest nations on earth?
Angels guide us.
Some pictures to remind us of a wonderful summer.
|Living sky at Fisherman's Corner|
|Panorama: the southern edge of a storm|
|Rick sleeping with the fish at Luke's house|
|Storm sky over the water lilies at Fisherman's Corner|
|Our merchandise at the Shady Creek Arts & Crafts fair.|
|Aster in bloom|
|Our "village" campsite at Shady Creek.|
|Butterfly garden at Muscatine's Weed Park.|
|Coreopsis in bloom.|
|Sunset at Weed Park|
|Sassy and Rocky enjoying the mild summer weather at Shady Creek.|