My friend Charley wants to ride his electric bike with me. We will meet in Austin, Texas. Problem is, I can get there in four days, but it will take him seven. So I slow down. In that very moment of surrender, this modest little moving assemblage of camp and bike and battery and food became home to me. I’m not destination bound, I’m just living at home, doing what my home does.
Our sense of scent can be developed by paying attention to it. Every inhale is different; here is water, here is flower and water and dirt, here is rot and pine, here is cigarette and pollen. Have you ever watched a dog smile as he sat there, sniffing the wind?
I am cycling along the banks of the Mississippi river. On this side of the river, there are 50 foot levies which the cows look heroic on:
On the other side of the levies are the occasional fish camps. You have got to be bold to own a building there, as the mighty Mississippi has risen almost high enough to overflow these levys.
When I was cycling back to Baker to get a new phone, I saw this man pushing a shopping cart on the other side of the four lane highway. Today, as I was cycling I saw him on the same highway perhaps seven miles down the road. His name is Mike, he served 24 years in the Air Force. He is now a traveling evangelist, and wants everyone to know that Jesus will take care of you. Just this morning Jesus gave him three $100 bills. As I said goodbye, Jesus gave him a peach.
Entomology or Avian alert!! Can anyone identify the creature that makes these lovely mud tubes? That’s my finger for size.
The farms are mostly growing sugar cane and corn. This area used to flood when the Mississippi rose, and the soil here is rich. By the roadside rests an abandoned processing facility.
To top off an extraordinary day, I find a glowing field of waving grass surrounded by trees to camp within. It’s deep down forgotten roads in the flood plain of the Mississippi in the beautiful state of Louisiana. It’s so remote only dreams can find it.
Happy Mother’s Day!