At least where I am for the next few days.
Gunter Hill Campground, near Montgomery, Alabama —a lovely, Spanish-moss-draped U.S. Corps of Engineers property perched on the bank of the Alabama River. Clean, flat campsite. Decent cell signal. And NO BEARS (yet). It’s mostly quiet, except for that lady who just growled like a bear at her husband because he almost backed their fancy, new 5th wheeler into an oak tree.
Outside the property lines, along the main highway: a convoluted mish-mash of mobile home squalor and freshly renovated antebellum mansions; stray dogs and blue-ribbon winning black angus cattle grazing under stately pecan trees. The winter time colors are typical of December the Deep South: bare, leafless forests and fallow fields the color of watered-down chocolate milk with stark cobalt skies looming above. Here, today, supersonic military jets from nearby Maxwell Air Force base painted those skies with wispy-white vapor trails.
All in all, though, the perfect environment in which to be productive.
To wit: after putting down stakes here, I’ve made deep dents in outlining an overhaul of a novel-length story I wrote during the pandemic—thoroughly burning the contents of my creative tank each day on a process crucial to my existence. Something that yields flow and purpose. I learned long ago that if I don’t burn the creative fuel every day on something personally meaningful, it ends up burning me by conjuring up all sorts of random, anxiety-laden future scenarios (i.e., a vision of choking to death on a stale Dollar General cashew, etc.).
You might say my creativity has a mind of its own—sometimes.
In a few days I’ll head down to North Florida for the holidays, where I’ll stay at my brother’s farm and enjoy some high quality family and old-friend time. Which I’m sure will involve some cow herding, oyster and boiled peanut consumption and raucous guitar/harmonica jamming on somebody’s backyard deck. After that? Hmm, good question. Although approval of my Shiloh volunteer gig may be finally progressing, but only as fast as Uncle Sam’s approval system will allow (i.e., not very fast).
Until next time, here’s wishing you all the happiest of holidays. As always, I sure do appreciate your readership and support!
Peace & Love,
Mark
i swear its funny how you were up in superior natl forest all summer and i over in u.p. and now im in my north florida home a stones throw away from florala that open air peace and justice museum if you havent been in montgomery is astounding
your description of the river there and the cultural stuff to come all ring true and reminder that yes this place in its easy country pace can be addicting...especially considering the chilly winds blowing down on the keweenaw peninsula about now ha!!
wonder where you will be on panhandle?
Good luck with the writing/revising. Let’s see some pics of the oysters!