A Day In the Hammocks

Here is a time of anticipation, hammocks poised for the days afternoon rain. Glaring diamond sun, horizon ink black, breezes stir hot thick air, thunder clouds call. Sandhill Cranes graze in a lazy black stream, glittering gold minnows lost as sun dims. Mates for life in Florida's vast hammocks now retreat to tall palmettos safety. The bald eagle glides low to her storm perch this nest of young chicks to shelter from storm. Darkness builds as rumbles roll from the sea, roiling black clouds swiftly move on sea's breeze. Fury rushes through tall saw grass with speed, at the will of driven rain, sand pines groan. Palms defiant in the gusting wind stand, Spanish moss on oaks like ghostly limbs wave. Lightning flashes in most deafening roar, hammock now obscure in a gray curtain. Islands of shell in black water rising, world embraced in a replenishing wrath. The wind driven storm moves quickly inland, rain lightens, winds calm, clouds open and pass. The sun, glaring bright, air hot and humid, water drips from still trees framed in rainbows. Robert Gene Stoner Jr © 8/16/16