I am floating way back in the thicket on my kayak, fishing pole hanging off the end, toes dangling out either side.
I have a bottle of water, two cameras, a headlamp, and a pocket knife, just in case.
I hear a bull frog and hundreds of songbirds singing a last jovial refrain. I heard something rustling the underbrush; suddenly a small raccoon appears, trying to touch a deflated helium balloon lying next to the water.
Tiny bugs make zig zags across the water as a Great Blue Heron darts in with a splash, head under and out in two seconds.
The fish has no idea what hit him before he slides down the smooth muscle of the heron's throat in one swift gulp. A fish jumps. The sun sets, and a tired old moon makes her way over the horizon, sullen and sad-faced. Resurrected.
Other images from tonight:
Fruits of my labor ripening