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| Loosing my religion, I think I thought I heard me cry
by stoneowl at 10/20/2009 7:17:51 PM
Living now in Virginia Beach, I desperately miss the northern neck region... Beaches and marshes seldom trod by man, one can find ancient relics Indians once lived by the use of, listen to the harsh croak of a heron surprised by my presence, watch him flap hurriedly away and glide gently to another sand bar... At times, I feel as if I am the first human to walk upon these sands, and I can see myself in my minds' eye making one of those stone points, lashing it to a shaft of wood and still-fishing the shoals and shallows around me. There are moments when I can smell ancient campfires, hear muffled voices long lost to times' relentless march, and in those moments I will often discover before my eyes a stone arrowhead washed up amid the bracken that glitters in the sun at low tide. I still have a few of these tokens of my brief visits to another time upon those shores...I miss it very much, surrounded now by despoiled shores and crowds and noise unknown to those hardy souls once camped upon the beaches I so well know. I feel as if my soul has been taken from me, and I am left to drift in a wasteland of maddening loneliness for those stretches of quietly murmuring sands
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