Thought I'd share the notes from my journal from the first part of our vacation trip.
6/2/08 - Swarms of gnats hung from each tree like a plume of smoke. Their coordinated movements spurred thoughts of collective intelligence, as in some horror film.
6/3/08 - After intermittent drizzly showers, the river has calmed to a glossy stillness, blurred by fog.
6/30/08 - What was the crumbling shack in that field before? A farm stand? A small home for someone making do? Whatever it once was, today it sags and bulges. From a window, a pink leg of some (once-loved?) stuffed beast droops. Memories left behind become just a part of the rubble.