Bird Talk

Here's a shot of two cormorants on the posts at Aaron's Beach. Actually, they may be some other sort of bird, but for now that's not really important.

What is important is what these birds are thinking, and what they would say if they could talk. Actually, that isn't important either; I just want to know.

Since we'll never actually know, I have to create my own answer.

Bird on Left: Hey. Don't look now but it's that frizzy-haired crazy woman with the camera.
Bird on Right: Uh-oh.
Left: You got that right. Act like you don't see her. Maybe she'll go away.
Right: 10-4.
(Pause.)
Right: Is she gone yet?
Left: No. But she's swatting the air and jumping up and down as if she's having a conniption. Maybe she's crazier than we thought.
Right: That may be true, but I signaled to our friends the horseflies to scare her away. Give it another 30 seconds and she'll be gone.
Left: It's working. She's trotting towards her car now.
Right: Can humans really trot?
Left: That's not germane to this conversation. The point is, she's leaving.
Right: Good. What's for lunch?
Left: I have a craving for Mexican but it's the New Year and I'm trying to watch what I eat. So I suppose it will be eel on a bed of seaweed.
Right: Eel is so 1994. Let's fly over to the Eastern Shore and hit that little Mexican restaurant in Onancock.
Left: You don't have to tell me twice. Last one there's a rotten egg.
CBW, racing back towards the water: Mexican? Wait for me!

What do you think they'd say if they could talk?

p.s. I could keep this bird conversation going on into perpetuity but am forcing myself to stop. You're very welcome. Happy Saturday.

Dawn

Here's a recent sunrise on the creek. It's the dawn of a new day and the dawn of a new year. The rising sun illuminates the darkness with a dazzling glow and the promise of daylight.

Every day is a beginning, a clean slate, a starting over. Yesterday is gone never to return. It's a fresh, clean slate this new day and this new year.

And so, it's time to stop reminiscing about last year and start looking ahead. In other words, it's time to start planning Blog Fest 2010.

In case you're wondering what Blog Fest even is, there's a whole separate blog dedicated to the logistics and communications from last year's event. In short, a bunch of bloggers, who were complete strangers except through the internet, descended upon little Mathews County for 3-4 days of laughing, sightseeing, overindulgence and camaraderie. Click here to get to the blog, but forgive me for not having any relevant current information on there.

To kick off the planning session for this year, I've anticipated questions and tried to answer them below.

What is Blog Fest?
Blog Fest was a crazy little notion that blossomed into one of the most memorable and fun weekends of my adult life. The Blog Fest group--which included many bloggers I did not know even via the internet--was diverse yet we blended like lifelong friends. The event, co-hosted by my blog sister Big Hair Envy, was held in Mathews County, and people from Canada, Maine, Washington state, Maryland, New York, Connecticut, Virginia, Texas and California came here sight unseen just to meet their blogging friends. We even made the local paper. In short, it was wonderful.

Why would I want to come to Blog Fest?
I have no idea, but you won't regret it.

Is Grandma J. as funny in person as she is on the internet?
No. She's funnier.

Is it true that the humidity was at 150%, the temperature was 99 degrees in the shade, and there were fiddler crabs scurrying up your legs across the roads?
Yes.

Can you confirm or deny the rumor that Grandma J. did a cannonball into the hot tub with her clothes on?
That's for me to know and you to find out.

This concludes the first chapter in the book called Blog Fest 2010: Will Chesapeake Bay Woman Actually Set the Date and Begin Concrete Plans or Will She Just Talk About It Like Everything Else on Her To Do list?


Pictured above from last year's Blog Fest is a zebra-striped-sunglass-wearing, hot-tub-loving Grandma J. trying to navigate her way out of a crab pot maze. This was right before boarding the work boat for the magical tour of New Point Light, courtesy of Ann Marie and the Waterman.