I realize that many do not  have time for these vignettes....However my last
3 months have been spent in the Mississippi delta building a mini chateau for
the cat fish king out of Texas Brazos Lime stone ( soft pales an yellows) as
for the men we eat sleep and work together in what has been a wild enviroment
of 110 deg heat and now it is the best of time 80 deg days and 40 deg
nites...we were camping the first month and a half along the mighty yazoo..
here then is a story about a lazy sat afternoon
the following is from my preservation journal....the best way to read is to
download and save for bed time...if not delete my friend delete...
.lost boat

Butterfly,dragonfly
beaver and bait
 two skiffs adrift
in cottonatail skys
spinning and dwawdiling
in  Saturdays September.
on the river .....river of death
The Yazoo

Yazoo  Indain name from the woodland culture 5000bc-1740....meaning river of
Death

Perhaps its true; life is like a river.... .Its what we learn before we
arrive.

Under powder puff skys we set out on a warm poetic Setember afternoon
floating and spinning among bull rushes and star lilly  observing beaver and
dozens of white crane  crane preening and  calling from the river
forrest.high above us.
 .
There is nothing quite so meditative as letting a wild vine entangled; yet
lazy river ease you down  the banks of her savannah among bottlenecks of
passion flower... blue flag   and steep cliffs of honey suckle.
Slowly spinning in the current ...daydreaming in natures feast as little
white feathers sail merrily past you...

The yazoo moves at a majestic 5mph
From the vantage point of an inflatable you imagine the earth moving through
the milky way as we pass landings of majical  eco systems in frog and fauna
without sight or sound of humanity; lost in a gurgle and golden haze of
sleepy afternoon of childs play
 In a few hours I was asleep fishing pole in hand...spinning merrily like the
little feathers..
Awaken by the splash of a 40lb beaver who waved his tail at me.... I relized
I had  became seperated from my party
Then....about 2 pm , the  infatible annoyingly starting taking on water
through a defective bilge valve I had negleted to check.Not much...but by
2:30.. it was steady and it gave me grave concern as I had nothing to pan the
water out.
That wasn't all to think about.....within this same time  there was a
quickening of black thunderheads  with rolls of thunder transforming s  this
delicious sleepy afternoon into a tempest of uncertainy.
The yazoo is truly wild...and imediate landings are a thing of risk
the flower and vine encrusted banks are beautiful yet deadly .
 Steep banks of colorful bramble and thorn yawn from sudden heights
and make landings impassible....
The Union navy found this out as the army of the North invaded this rebel
nation by water only to meet a deadly crossfire from  backwoods milita
sharpshooters sissored by deadly connonades of the foulest grapeshot from
impenatrable positions of  thorn and slime footholds.
By 3 pm the boat was   full of water and  I was surrounded by this
impossible terraine of  steep cliffs with hidden snake dens coupled with deep
 briar thickets that perhaps no human has ever seen the bottom of.
The situation is quite worisome
The sky now was very black and the wind had turned cold and was bigining to
whip waves over the inflatables gunwhale.
 a heavy wind buffed my course to one side..so driven was this wind I forced
to come along side a landing of a bank of  wet clay.and long aquatic grass
not of my choosing...
Now began a heavy downpour of large drops that quickly swamped the inflatable
under its own weight ..there wan't much to save... my camera and cell phone
were already submerged...the best I could do was abandon ship before the
banks became a quagmire of hopeless quick mud.
...now I I scrambled for my life.
..the current was moving more rapidly with rainfall  at a quick five knots
 I knew  this was it.... I had  wainted for the last possibe moment for a
favorable position    before I rolled out ot the boat and headed  for the
banks ....gripping the bow line in my teeth.. I set out in a breast stroke
alongside the grass until I could mount a bank with water filled boots. As
the river pulled me and the rain pounded me I tore into the earth with my
grip and pulled myself up using the current  to swing my leg....then the
other just after. I held but just barely...I could feel the bank giving way
so I rolled and scrambled still holding the bow line.
Ashore and black with mud I tethered the raft to a broken limb; caught my
breath and took my bearings.
The rain spot cleaned me  so I was streaked as the tropical wind lashed me in
sudden howls..of pealing thunder and crashes of nearby lighting.
Knowing I needed to move before quick mud set in I checked the still sinking
boat once more only witness my camera and cell phone waltz in a lazy spin on
the boats bottom.just then the whole wretched mess sank uncerimoniously  into
the Yazoo while tied to the dead limb.
With no time to grieve I quickly sized up the situation.To the right was
sheer clay cilff of a good 20 ft with no vine....to the left wasa good six
walls of uphill briar and thorn coupled with perfect snake dens.
 The mind wants to race in crisis ..anxiety couples with confusion and
precious seconds are lost  ......focus.
.Focus my son.. and what little time you may have is yours.
said my teacher in some forgotten moment of the past.
Sencing I needed to get out of the quick mud as speedily as possible
 I scrambled up through a thicket of thorn then transversed a gallery of
poision ivy.and broken limb..before landing on top of the 20ft bank.
The tempest was now in full rage ; rain water mud and sweat mixed with the
blood of my torn flesh as I made my way down overgrown 4 wheel path.
I was lost but at worst it would be a night spent in rabbit warrens  of
prickly  thicket.
 At one point I swung a branch limb and a ball of tiny red spiders fell to my
shoulder giving me the most horiffic firey  bites and welts as the sky opened
up in torrents of cold tropical rain .
With rain running from my canvas hat like a spigot and freezing my sunburnt
skin I figured I  had a bout an hour of falling light before it would be
pitch  black  and hopeless to continue.
 Following  4 wheeler paths are tricky as the most obvious fork will just
snake back around or simply disappear into scenceless  maze of bramble.
I lucked out ...after 3 wrong turns.. and doubling back I hit lucky and hit
gravel road at pitch dark.
By 9pm.... I was in a hot tub.. with dinner on the stove with alot of
goodnatured ribbing from my fellow river rats who toasted my lost boat into
the wee hours......We recovered the boat 2 days later. Best Michael