The quiet woods

 

 

As I trekked through the woods today in beautiful Pensacola I felt a rush of joy and peacefulness come upon me.  The tall skinny pines reached toward the quickening grey sky and the wind whispered high above our heads.  For a moment, the clouds broke and the sun seeped through the thick, green vegetation creating a glowing fairy forest.  I breathed deep.

 

As my co-workers and I wiped away sweat from our faces and looked on at the archaeological site before us, we could hear the familiar low and distant sound of thunder and I wondered if we would make it out before the rain came.

 

We soon headed out of the site, leaving the quiet and almost untouched forest to the chirping birds and buzzing insects.  We hopped back into our cars, driving along the rust colored dirt roads and headed back to civilization. 



We drove for awhile longer before pulling off onto another dirt road.  This time a cotton farm where some locals were going to let us borrow some boats to go up the Escambia River to look at some more sites.  With the storm approaching the boat tour was called off and instead we sat around the large, dusty farm equipment rehydrating ourselves and eating boiled peanuts.  I quietly leaned up against the back bed of a pickup truck and listend to the slow southern drawls of our Muscogee Creek friend tell stories about how much the river has changed and spending time in the woods as a young boy.