Since I’m still in “procrastination mode,” I decided to participate in a word prompt via Dale via Sammi.
Use this word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.
One of our favorite places to visit in Florida is the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. The Refuge has over 17,000 protected acres and lies between three counties. It is a way station for all sorts of migratory birds and butterflies, and is home to a lot of critters including black bears, bobcats, otters, and … yes, of course, alligators. Since we moved to Florida in 1990, my husband and I have visited the Refuge numerous times, usually walking one of their well-maintained trails which takes you along dikes and bayous.
A couple of weeks ago, we decided to go out to the St. Marks Lighthouse. The lighthouse was built in 1842 and is still being used, although currently it’s under renovation.
Lighthouse at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge
Our purpose in this trip was to scope out some good spots for photography.
I’m not making any claims about my photographic abilities, especially since I was just using my iPhone, but the video above and the photos below should give you a nice idea of what SMNWR has to offer.
(1) Overlooking one of the many bayous at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge
(2) Overlooking one of the many bayous at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge
A little color in the otherwise green and sandy gray landscape.
On our way to the beach at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge
The “beach” at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge
So what is my husband looking for? Ah, some of these little critters …
It was dark, and there was no sound, no smell. When I opened my eyes all I could see were silver bubbles escaping from my mouth.
It was about 9 p.m. and I was swimming across DeLong Lake on a windy evening, the sky still light but overcast, the temperature, which had been close to 80 degrees earlier, cooling off so that the few people on shore wore jackets and baseball caps.
My goggles had fogged over and I could see nothing but the grey and choppy water, and my partner’s bright blue inflatable pack raft/boat. The waves were high enough that water splashed on my face and in my mouth. It was difficult to breathe and soon I lost all sense of where I was. I simply swam, my arms and legs moving through that cold water.
Yet when I opened my eyes on the underwater strokes, it was…
Marie at 1 Write Way 