A SHORT STORY with inspiration photos

" WINTER  IN  LOCHLOOSA  "

     Copyright 2010 by Robert Paul Conner (12/10/2010) 

Richland , Washington  99354   USA

Open Door

As I sit here on my brother's very comfortable back porch enraptured and blissfully enjoying the beautiful red birds maneuvering for prime real-estate for fine dining at brother's hand-crafted artistic bird feeder, my mind drifts into a state of unexpected relaxation as Mother Nature makes a slow and gentle knock upon the open door of a fall day in the "one blink and you missed it" Lochloosa by the lake.

Oaks

Picturesque Alachua Live Oaks, bent and twisted by age, are weeping with the swaying moss that slowly waltz back and forth with the invisible and eternal breeze arriving from places unknown.

Roosters

In the distance several independent cocky roosters (beside two weathered and humble mobile homes) relentlessly provide all day echoes with the non-stop repetition of a ticking clock -!-!-!-!-!-!-.  Proclaiming their declaration of exclusive entitlement of the parched grass and dirt upon which they stand.  Their echoes become annoyance as they shatter the peacefulness of a beautiful fall day.  Given their attitude, I suspect those roosters are more tough than tasty and thus not suitable for an evening supper plate, although the thought did cross my mind.  Surely their owners have either lost their hearing or lost their mind from their enduring echoes.

A Stroll

A leisurely stroll down the lane reveals restless little rolling waves lap dancing (with only a whisper) across Lochloosa Lake. They change direction without warning, as if uncertain of their final destination or purpose upon this glorious life sustaining evolutionary heavenly blue-green spinning ball called Earth.  A marvelous object tethered by an invisible magnetic hook to a fiery intense giant rage of energy in the cosmos that we have fondly come to depend upon (the Sun).

On A Peninsula

Random and profound thoughts and keen awareness of my ever changing surroundings silently arrive, then mysteriously disappear as I sit here by this lonely body of water that is anchored to a southward peninsula reaching out to warm salty waters at the southern tip of eastern America.  A southern peninsula that is energized by radiant sunshine, juicy sweet fruits, swaying palms, shifting sand, creepy swamps, armies of marching and flying insects, seasonal trespassing hurricanes, unexpected sink holes that can gobble you up and transport you against your will through the vast network of swift flowing underground rivers and deposit you on the shore of any one of the many fading lakes that harbor an aging humanity settling into another winter in America in a place stamped "Florida" on your traveling Atlas of maps.

The Eagle

As the local underwater inhabitants of the lake go about their busy afternoon of survival, preying upon their cousins and relatives up and down the food chain, an Eagle silently (and as lethal as a winged stealth) glides across the pale blue sky searching for an evening meal.  A beautiful Eagle silhouette by the blazing red-yellow sun that is artistically painting the drifting clouds crimson purple as it slowly slides downward to touch the glassy afternoon surface of the lazy lake.

The Gator

Like a secret submarine submerged among the camouflage of bountiful supply of flowering lily pads, peer the intimidating eyes, nostrils, and razor sharp teeth of a lounging Alli-gator just waiting to surprise someone or anything that dares to interrupt its afternoon of blissful rest.

Big Mouth

The afternoon tranquility suddenly explodes with excitement across the lake as a leathery old sun-baked fisherman, in a small, battered navy-gray fishing boat (most likely built with his own two hands), reels in his prize of a long day's endurance upon the water, a whoppin' pot-bellied Big Mouth Bass.  A Big Mouth that clearly has feasted on numerable occasions at an underwater fast food diner for schools of gourmet shiners and shrimp.

Rockin' Chairs

A variety of wild flowers and abundance of weeds decorated the roadside of the beaten dirt lane that guided me to where I encountered a most precious scene.  Clinging to the lakes very edge rested a rustic little cottage with a weathered back porch gazing out across the lake as it called out to the lapping water for some company.  Carved into the porch floor are two sets of well used rockin' chair grooves from years of afternoon viewing the serenity of the desolate lake that is very thirsty and anxious for a refreshing afternoon rain shower.  Slowly rockin' to the rhythm of the lake (snugly secured by the porch floor grooves) are two squeaky antique rockin' chairs occupied by a loving gray haired couple (perhaps in their nineties) holding hands while they slowly rock back & forth sending their harmonious squeaks out across the silence of the thirsty lake.  This precious sight and sounds stir reflections of my own mortality and flood my emotions as I view this loving couple who has clearly vowed "till death do us part" as they share another beautiful and captivating sunset.  Only God knows if this will be their final sunset together.

End Of A Winter's Day

The sitting sun has made its afternoon exit behind the tall pines and mossy oaks along the western shore of Lochloosa lake.  Thus brings to a close another winter's day in the sleepy and often ignored lake town of Lochloosa, Florida.  The "one blink and you missed it" town inhabited only by a tiny white cinder-block Post Office (proudly waving atop a shiny metal pole - the American Flag) and a few scattered rusty old homes randomly turning off their dim glowing lights for a night of southern slumber.  A southern slumber occasionally interrupted by the rumble and wail of one of the many passing north & south trains (within spitting distance from the bedroom walls) or the distant moaning whirl from the propeller of an air-boat gliding across the lake on a night expedition to capture some tasty big fat bull frogs for a down-home southern meal after the morning bright yellow sun has once again climbed to the top of the pale blue sky with its puffy little cotton ball, snowy white clouds.  

The End 

(view pictures below for the inspiration for this story)