Finally, it feels like summer, hot and clear. Not, too hot, but with crystal blue skies – sun glinting of the leaves and water, glaring off the rocks. Two rafts with two teenage shipmen in each, just floated/bumped by; they are now out of sight. I am now free to return to just my sports bra in attempt to get some sun on my rolls of white flesh.
Sam is happily bushwhacking, obviously feeling like quite the adventure dog as he tramps through the grasses that tower four feet tall. In an uncharacteristic move he is also trailblazing through the water and, with wet and muddy feet, over my book.
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