Who says there’s no perceptible gain from exercising at my age?
Oh. That was me.
But look what I found while working on my core strength, although it seems inherently wrong to put “my core” and “strength” in the same sentence.
From dark, murky swamp-rivers to extraordinarily bright palmetto leaves, on just one small-town ramble.
For someone who isn’t very sporty, I find it a bit odd that I’d be doing two sports videos, back to back, except for two private birthday videos for grandchildren, that is.
But these wetsuit-clad and balaclava-wearing surfer dudes were fun to watch, even from the breezy, brisk, and rainy shoreline last November.
Emerging from miles of swamp, the Waccamaw River flows almost black, except at the riverbank where shallower water allows the tannins to show their colour. There’s no breeze, but currents ripple the water’s reflective surface just enough to be interesting.
Coming from Alberta, I’m used to clear, headlong mountain streams and to broad, brown rivers meandering across the Prairies.
I’m not accustomed to the swampy rivers that are so common here in South Carolina. They’re a bit unsettling — what’s hiding underneath all that dark water, anyway? — but they’re also beautiful in their own way.
The on-site supervisor looks just a tad edgy. Tagging along on a trip to a hardware store, I am wandering the aisles, camera in hand, looking.
“Looking for what?” asks the other tagger-along, more or less.
For whatever I can see. For whatever strikes. There’s always something.
Shiny shapes . . .
Coloured shapes . . .
Biting shapes . . . Look out!
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”
“Your favourite: undifferentiated plant meristem tissue, sautéed in butter.”
Mmm, mmm. Sounds delicious, no?
No.
You might wonder how or why I got here. Read on. Continue reading
No “please” and “thank you.” Not even a complete sentence. Certainly nothing like this . . .
We would appreciate Members putting their carts
on the indicated side of the checkout conveyor belt
and keeping their own selves on the other side.
Like any other hard thing, communicating clearly and quickly always look simple after the fact.
I have a good tripod but have resisted learning how to use it properly. I justify this by telling myself that I don’t really need it for the camera I have, and the shots I take.
But even in these days of Photoshop, sometimes seeing is believing. Below, two early-morning shots at the beach: the first without a tripod, the second with.
The truth is that I don’t need a tripod . . . unless I want to take more kinds of photographs.
Where are you from, Honey?
She manages to deliver her question without any particular tone and without emphasizing any of the words. It might have come out so differently.
Where are you from, Honey?
Where are you from, Honey?
Where are you from, Honey?
But the courtesy that seems to come naturally to South Carolinians sees her through her natural surprise that someone doesn’t know why they sell corn in bins outside a gas station, or why they have a box of crickets back by the restrooms, with an admonishment taped on the wall above it.
For feeding squirrels (NO!!!) and for baiting deer.
The admonishment.
Fish bait in the aforementioned cricket box.
I guess I’m just a not-from-around-here Honey.
Posted: 2025 Jun 13
Thanks to John Whitman for this slightly dismayed face from downtown Ottawa.
This space is available for other submissions.
