We were here a couple years ago—just up the shore a bit on a pine tree trail where we found ourselves enswarmed by mosquitos setting upon us with such ferocity that we could not swap fast enough.
And here we are again—taking a road that we didn’t take back then but along which the mosquitos swarm just as ferociously.
And with the sweat running down our sides and the mosquitos swirling about us in the car as we drive slowly along the gravel road thru the scrub beside marshy, brackish water that smells of low tide, without saying a thing to each other about the heat and the sweat and the biting bugs, the we view the passing land and the birds and the snakes and keep an eye out for alligators and silently wonder how much longer the road goes on.