Pocomoke City Riverfront.
 
Fingers of dawn are gloved in a cloth of a now thin layer of clouds.  The morning moisture accents the infrequent weighty sound of heavy rubber rolling across the metal griddled center span of the small, quaint Pocomoke downtown bridge that holds the town together with its narrow ribbon of asphalt, steel & cement plunged deep into the river and stacked only slightly above it.  The Drawtender emerges momentarily from his private, stubby, cupola like domain, salutes the morning with a stretching of arms upward and a lazy wave in the direction of Skinwalker which is tied against the boardwalk pilings.  A fleet of eighteen ducks float down river past the Skinwalker unharmed after brazenly challenging the large vessel with their numerous duck calls, while a flight of geese in close formation, intent on waking the world honked their way in a graceful fashion through a “S” bend up the river.  Both fleet and flight now well past the Skinwalker, out of harms way, return to silent running.
 
Ouch!  Smack.  One lonely mosquito wishing to break the fast on my leg, unfortunately will not see dawn into morning.
 
One mosquito bite is a small tariff willingly given for the bountiful odes of joy heaped on our daily plate of life.  The dead mosquito, flicked into the river, just became food for a small fish who should be wary of becoming my dinner. 
 
It is a small world after all, and at times, I feel the center of it all and other times I am naught but a simple ignorant student, feverishly cramming for that last exam before graduating from the universe and this piece of grit in the flash of the tiniest briefest spark of life—mine.  In the bawdiness of the grand scheme, no doubt that energy will go to replace the next mosquito.
 
Yes, it is a quiet peaceful morning in Pocomoke even as the river flows up-stream twenty miles from the Chesapeake Bay pushed by the Atlantic Ocean into the bubble of lunar high tides, even as bubble is depressed and the tide pushed out of the Mekong Delta and the Tasmanian Sea on the other side of the world.
 
 I wonder how the gravitation pull of the sun and moon on the water effects the earth’s spin?  Does it make it go slower, faster, wobble, tilt?  Has anything fallen off the earth? (Except, John Grimshaw, but he has always made his own rules.)

If gravity makes a water bubble known as the tides, does that mean each person weighs less during high tide?  These are important issues to ponder in the morning with coffee, because as every one knows in the afternoon, during the rum ration, it is critical to know the conditions of gravity and understand that gravity is not just a good idea, it is the law.  Thank you for sharing John.
 
Before our world turns upside down we will cloister ourselves in the pilothouse for further examination of the world’s condition and perhaps sausage & eggs.

Capt'n Lynnie and Skinwalker