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Nov. 27th, 2002 12:57 pmAt around 5PM last night I (metaphorically) said "Screw it," packed the car, tossed in some freshly burned CDs, and headed south. A couple days away from biz, spending some time with family, the surf...why wait?
South of Atlanta, the sun went down and Orion started to rise over my left shoulder. South of Macon, the air filled with smoke from burning cotton fields, and the temperature dropped to the mid 40s (6-8C.) I was eclectic in my music choices. Korn pounded over and over out of my speakers, followed by Coldplay. Mecano and Sarah Brightman, followed by Disturbed and SR-71. David Brubeck and Trust Company.
Around the Florida line, the smoke had turned to fog; the temperature was rising but the humidity was rising faster. I-10 through the Osceola forest was eerie and dark. Roadkill had changed from raccoon and opossum to opossum and armadillo, but my eyes were nervously scanning the black forest edges for suicidal deer.
I hit Jacksonville around midnight, crossing a bridge on I-295 heading eastbound. Jacksonville is lit downriver on the left as the bridge crosses three miles of the St. John's river and points toward the sea. As I climbed the peak of the bridge, the moon rose ahead, huge and golden and sharply cut in half. The sight itself was beautiful enough to give me my second wind.
More fog down the coast until Daytona when I was far enough east for the shore breezes to clear it off. When I finally saw the ocean on AIA in Melbourne, the glass-smooth surface reflected the moon like a painting. I got out of the car at 2AM to the smell of salt and rotting kelp. Orion started to sink slowly over the mainland.
South of Atlanta, the sun went down and Orion started to rise over my left shoulder. South of Macon, the air filled with smoke from burning cotton fields, and the temperature dropped to the mid 40s (6-8C.) I was eclectic in my music choices. Korn pounded over and over out of my speakers, followed by Coldplay. Mecano and Sarah Brightman, followed by Disturbed and SR-71. David Brubeck and Trust Company.
Around the Florida line, the smoke had turned to fog; the temperature was rising but the humidity was rising faster. I-10 through the Osceola forest was eerie and dark. Roadkill had changed from raccoon and opossum to opossum and armadillo, but my eyes were nervously scanning the black forest edges for suicidal deer.
I hit Jacksonville around midnight, crossing a bridge on I-295 heading eastbound. Jacksonville is lit downriver on the left as the bridge crosses three miles of the St. John's river and points toward the sea. As I climbed the peak of the bridge, the moon rose ahead, huge and golden and sharply cut in half. The sight itself was beautiful enough to give me my second wind.
More fog down the coast until Daytona when I was far enough east for the shore breezes to clear it off. When I finally saw the ocean on AIA in Melbourne, the glass-smooth surface reflected the moon like a painting. I got out of the car at 2AM to the smell of salt and rotting kelp. Orion started to sink slowly over the mainland.
