Existing In BFE

My affinity with morning goes back to when I was a kid, maybe.  We were sleeping out, maybe at Sponsler's and I woke up just before the sun came out and I was mesmerized by the sky.  I could see everything millions of miles away.  The dampness of dew,  a young mind imagining the endlessness of space.  The clarity of the stars.  Was I the only one up witnessing this spectacular view.  Young eyes looking at the vastness of space, all the stars and I'm sure I thought it was the neatest time of day: when you could see two worlds, so to speak.  Of course, the solitude and quiet of morning suits my personality, too.  Like I said a few days ago, it's like cheating, you get a head start on everyone else.  Time to do whatever needs done without rushing, without frantic clock-watching.   So here I am, on Tybee Island, magic box in hand, with a whole ocean in front of me, a lighthouse in the back, and a quiet solitude that washes over me.  It is one of those rare perfect times.  

In the time I worked at MDH, we were not without staff tragedy.  Today, we revisit some of the people who helped me in my shifts and in some cases outside of work as well.  These people have  passed away and remain in my thoughts.  IN MEMORIAM MICHAEL S. JOHNSON There have been some people along the way who I worked with at the Mary Davis Home who I liked, and in some cases liked a whole lot.  In the "whole lot" area was this guy, Mike Johnson who possessed a keen wit, hearty laugh, was devilishly mischievous, and an all-around great, great guy.  He was a guy's guy - a best friend type who everyone likes and who makes you feel like the most important person in the room.  he helped me move once, helped me re-do a boxcar I lived in on Bateman Street in G-Burg, helped me drink some beer, and made my place his first stop on Friday's before going home.  We golfed, fished, sat around and told lies and jokes and made like we were the two greatest stud

Tybee has a population of around 6,000 and is 12 miles away from Savannah so there is a lot less ambient light here than I have to deal with in St. Pete.  I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get up early and wander over to the lighthouse and beach area that is only two or three blocks away. This shot was from the walkway on the beach.  Those lights out there help guide ships out to the sea lanes.  I'm not a harbor pilot but I play one on this blog. Actually, I was somewhat astounded by the number of lights out in the Atlantic. There are no islands or islets out there, so I have no idea what the bright thing is in the center of this picture.  But the setting was so quiet and serene.  I love this time of day, before everyone gets going and the day starts.  Before the obligations and the dullness.  My dad jokingly called it the shank of the day.  Regardless, the darkness of the sky with the looming, almost wistful coming of light is the stuff of poetry.  

This is our third trip through Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah.  This time I really will keep still as you scroll through the pictures.   Tours proliferate throughout the cemetery and perhaps next time it might be worth it.  One other thing to note:  they also offer 2 hour midnight tours.  I'd love that one.     "Bonaventure", as one guy wrote, "is a good place to die."  He travelled many weeks to get here, and then committed suicide.  What a grand time checking out this place.  Needless to say, if you are ever around Savannah,  there is so much to see and do.  But be sure to find the time to wander around Bonaventure Cemetery.