I returned home yesterday from having spent seven days and nights on Dauphin Island. My intention this trip was to experiment with my camera, take scads of photos, read, blog, eat shrimp and visit the beach and Shell Mounds. I accomplished most of it.
The blogging didn’t happen as the internet wasn’t available. I’m kind of weird about writing for my blog – I like to do it right on the page. Why, I don’t know. So without internet availability I did not write a thing. I was never short of ideas but quickly shifted gears as all good Pisces are prone to and turned the week into a snooze fest.
I have never slept so much in my life. It felt so good to get up when I wanted, take a nap after breakfast and another after lunch. Most evenings I fell asleep in front of the TV – which I seldom if ever watch at home. Then I would sleep away the balmy ocean filled night. The sound of night birds, gentle waves and rustling palm fronds are primally soothing to me. I slept the dreamless sleep of island magic, nestled in a snowy down comforter, chilly night air wafting through the heedless room.
“Look up”, the advice from a friend of what to photograph. So I often did.
At the entrance of the Shell Mounds
Hollowed by time
An upturned root ball. Rains have washed most of the soil and shells away over several years. I first photographed this root ball about five years ago when it was a solid mass of black soil spreckled with crystalline shells. The heavy scent of fresh dirt still prevalent.
A single shell unearthed and precariously perched in a crook.
Looking up, close and personal, a new way for me to photograph trees. Searching for the illusive Toothache tree, this Southern Hackberry is easily confused but the “teeth” do not have the numbing astringent quality. I did not find the toothache tree on this trip.
Looking straight up the side of the Mother tree in the mounds. This tree is rapidly decaying back into the earth.
Another close look at tree skin.
I found one small patch of spiderwort. One of my favorite plants I first discovered it on Dauphin Island fifteen plus years ago only to come to the knowledge that it grows in 49 of our fifty states. It wasn’t long after I learned about spiderwort that I began seeing it in many places including my own yard.
The ponderous and fast becoming precarious body of the mother tree at the Shell Mounds.
Looking up once again into a sea of Spanish moss on a cloudy day.
A fan of frail wood lace at the bottom of a rotting trunk.
Seagulls on broken asphalt; remnants of a parking lot after a hurricane.
Nearing the end of my first day, a horizontal observation otherwise known as a sunset.