Come Walk With Me

Here’s a couple of videos taken along the boardwalk.

 

 

Strolling through the Swamp?

Just about 20 minutes outside of New Orleans is the Jean Lafitte National Park and Preserve. We first discovered this place while searching online for different places to see while in New Orleans.

A gentleman had posted a large number of pictures that were taken in the early morning or early evening – ones filled with mist and spooky looking trees – a boardwalk stretching off into the distance.

We finally tracked it down to the Jean Lafitte Park and made it one of the things we wanted to see on this trip.

The boardwalk does stretch through the cypress trees and palmetto plants and it’s very eerie and quiet.

I strolled along this boardwalk quite at my ease chattering away to The Man about how they wouldn’t build a boardwalk through the swamp if it was dangerous. It’s a well-known fact that alligators can jump up half the length of their body – did you know that? So – I chattered to The Man – they definitely wouldn’t build something like this if there was a chance of getting chomped at all – would they?

And then I rounded the corner and let out – well – I won’t print it here – but it included a lot of these in it @#^%@@!!!!

He looked at us with those huge prehistoric eyes as I inched past him and let out a pent-up sigh – but I kept my eye on him as we kept going in case he was thinking of following us……you know how they do that….

Much to my surprise as we walked further along – without our scaly friend – we came to this -

Which just happened to be the end of the boardwalk in that direction.

And yes – you’ve got it – he was still waiting for us upon our return.

Personally? I think he was laughing at us!

CSI New Orleans!

 

Have you ever been on an airboat ride through the swamps or Everglades? It’s an experience worth taking – believe me.

 

Our guide ‘Captain Monkey’ was very entertaining and knowledgeable.  I would have hired him in a flash as a white water rafting guide but he would have had to leave his buddy behind.

Although the airboats are NOISY! the scenery is incredible – well – except for that Cottonmouth snake we saw and Captain Monkey touching it with a paddle – erm…- anyone seen my heart anywhere lately? I’m sure it left my body when that thing leaped….(not showing the snake – not showing the snake).

What I liked about it was the fact that everywhere we went was owned by the airboat company and maintained by them as well.

Sometimes there just aren’t words worthy of the view….

Our destination for that trip was this little guy who had just come out of hibernation. He couldn’t have cared less about us drifting around him – but none of us offered to get in the water and go swim with him.

The only thing about the adventure that upset me (besides the snake) was the fact that ‘Captain Monkey’ wouldn’t let me drive!

The Going

You know when the phone rings and it’s passed to you with the whispered words of who’s calling? You know how your stomach clenches and you think “Please God – don’t let this be that kind of call” – and yet it is and still you keep the receiver pressed against your ear as you stare blankly in front of you.

And suddenly there are images flashing through your brain as you listen to the messenger crying in your ear. They are images of a life that has been connected to yours and all you want to see are the good ones – the ones that made you smile and you can hear that person’s voice and it touches you deep inside and it draws out a memory.

And suddenly you can’t breathe or even catch your breath because there’s something in your throat that wasn’t there before the phone rang. Something that is hard and so huge it blocks your throat and hurts – burns. And suddenly you gasp and the hot tears pour down your face and you can’t talk or even whisper. You are left gasping at air like a dying goldfish and your hands grab blindly for the chair you know is somewhere behind you.

And suddenly there are no words – just a mutual crying across the telephone lines.

And on the other end of the phone – the messenger is living their own kind of hell. The one of bewilderment and loss – the one that knows the message must be passed on. The one that each time the telephone is picked up and the numbers punched in, that there is the knowledge that once again the heart must be ripped apart and the wound is going to grow bigger. There is the small hope that this isn’t real, even though you know it is. And there is the hope that too many questions won’t be asked because at the moment you just don’t know how to answer them – it is just too soon.

And on the other end of the line there is the knowledge that the torch has been passed and it is now an unspoken request that the message must be passed on.

The new messenger picks up the phone and punches in the numbers – aware that when the phone is lifted on the other end that the cycle will begin again and that more hearts will sigh and more tears be shed.

Goodbye dear one. Rest gently.