I get a text message from a number I don’t recognize that says:
Cameuponourshore
and I’m intrigued because WHAT DOES IT MEAN? I must know. So I immediately write back… only to receive a photo of an alligator.
I realize, oh! It’s the sweet neighbor whose number I should’ve saved (and still haven’t).
There is indeed a large alligator that shoots around the lake. She doesn’t glide (she because I’m pretty sure I’ve met her baby); she launches. It’s insane and mesmerizing and a little terrifying all at once. Naturally, Gigi is never off leash and never close to the shore Paul references inhistext.
Besides, have you ever seen that video of the guy that opens the gator’s mouth to pull his puppy out?
I promise you, that’s me. I can take big mommy.
This morning, as I was writing something else, I found myself instinctively looking up to see if she’s out there. I can see the water from here, and whenever the ripples get a little more intense (or sometimes, even more eerily? when they get too quiet), I know she’s around.
Gigi’s just as curious about the lake dwellers. She does the funniest double takes if she spots anything larger than her. Sometimes it’s a slow-moving giant turtle, an Anhinga drying its wings, or the sunbathing baby gator. I don’t exactly want big mommy to be around enough to catch her attention. But from the deck? It’s fine.
The urge to write is waning. Sometimes life pummels you so absolutely, you can’t outwit it with words. So I’ll close with a photo: me, shabby and bleary-eyed, hoping to make something stick. I know the aliveness will return, perhaps with the same force as big mommy (name suggestions invited) shooting across the lake.
OR I’ll try doing what the Anhingas do: patiently wait for my wings to dry.
(Daily Writing 034)
Thoughts?