Archive for October 31, 2011


The creek was long. You all know that. The creek was wide. The day was passing and the water was gross and we were working hard to get the survey done without messing it up and praying we would never have to come back and redo it. Funny thing about daylight and this chapter – both have an ending.

Some of you might be disappointed that the ending is coming. Some of you might be sitting on the edge of your seats. Well, what began to happen changed, forever, the way I would look at what we did. We had completed the survey and were packing it in when I noticed that the sun was beginning to go down behind the cypress trees in the distance.

The silhouette of the black tree line against the orange ball that was the sun was both beautiful and awful. Immediately I said to John that we should hurry. John, once again sharing words of wisdom and horror, said that we were lucky we didn’t have a flashlight – that alligators were nocturnal feeders and that the eyes lined up on the banks would scare us to death. John is such a comfort.

John - Our Mentor

I wondered to myself if he meant to say that out  loud. John knows more about working in swamps than we do but he also has a story about getting bitten by a moccasin that we don’t. You see, we were chest deep in nasty water pushing the canoes filled with equipment upstream as the sunlight faded. My initial reaction was to call my husband.

Usually Scott doesn’t worry too much about me – or at least that’s how it seems. I was more worried that I would not make it whole back to the canoe launch. I was really scared. I called and told him what was going on and that if he didn’t hear from me in an hour – I just wanted to let him know that I loved him and to kiss the kids for me. I wondered, as I hung up, if he had taken me seriously. I wondered why I decided I could do this. I also wondered how much life insurance I had.

The funny thing about darkness is that it is just that. It’s dark. We all know from our childhood that very terrible things lurk in the darkness. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you still believe in some things. I believed that this was a very serious situation and that I was sincerely afraid. I tried to sound flippant and keep Kristen laughing. I knew she was walking in holes over her head. I knew that every other footstep brought an unknown bottom that might hold a fallen and rotting tree and its branches.

I knew that the darkness was coming and we weren’t going to make it back before it fell. The fear that gripped me was overwhelming. I found myself gripping the side of the canoe even harder. I began trying not to touch the bottom. I started to make funny comments in a nervous voice. I started to panic.

It’s pretty obvious that we made it back. It’s probably not as obvious what followed us back to the launch. I can’t say when I noticed it. I only know that it is here, with me now as I write this chapter. It has been with me ever since that first survey. It seeps into the room when I am otherwise occupied. It takes me over some days.

It’s what followed us back to the launch that day that I miss the most sometimes sitting here at the kitchen counter writing. It’s that notion that anything could have happened and didn’t. It’s the feeling that you escaped, and cheated death. It’s knowing that there are two people who you don’t have to ask to watch out for you. It’s a part of me that is slowly dying. A part of my soul that is starving. A corner of my heart that is crumbling slowly and rotting.

Here, on this Halloween night, it’s what scares me more than the ghouls and monsters. It scares me even more that the fear of the things I couldn’t see as that sun went down behind the tree line. I can’t face my fear of it.

That I might lose the Team! Forever! Does that ever scare you?

Kristen on the banks of Catfish Creek

We find the canoe launch. We flag the reach noticing the long fingers of algae and nasty green water. I was thinking when we come back to survey, it’s not going to be easy. I also think I need to be brave. I don’t want Kristen to know how scared I am. John will not like it if he knows how scared I am.

John joins us for the survey a few days later. This survey is something new to us. I am going to setup the tripod IN THE WATER. Gross. John seems to think it’s all wonderful. John thinks we know what we are doing. Pity.

We begin surveying and it’s a fiasco. Firstly, you can’t see the bottom as the water is so green and nasty. Secondly, the bottom is so soft the tripod keeps slipping. Thirdly, the algae that floats by me makes me feel creeped out. Everything that touches me seems like something horrid.

Then there’s the fact that snakes are swimming near me. That’s right. John is tromping around on the banks scaring up all kinds of nasty and I yell out for him to come tell me what kind of snake it is…..yeah – he comes splashing over and tells me that moccasins strike their prey under water. Thanks John. At some point I get so engrossed in my work that I forget about the snakes. I start worrying about Kristen.

Kristen is five foot two. The water isn’t that deep, but there are much deeper pools filled with sticks and stuff. She is up to her chin in some spots. She is also pretty far away from me so I can’t stop anything that happens. Helping will be delayed by mud, water, fear, and whatever. I realize I don’t like this. Again, John seems to think nothing could possibly be in the water that wants to hurt us. I disagree.

What real Chicks with Ticks Do!!

I think there is something somewhere in there and I think we could get hurt! There are still days that I feel that way. I have learned to trust that instinct. Funny thing is, I have been right. I have found that thing that is in the water and wants to hurt us. Sometimes I feel it right beside me. That thing is ugly and it is dangerous and it doesn’t care that John thinks we know what we are doing!

Chicks with Ticks at Catfish Creek

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