A Living Magazine - Day 255 - Homecoming - Whitsett to Burlington

Well, it was pretty-much a non-rain. I woke up in the morning to a completely dry tent and tarp/fly. The temperature was slightly lower. A new weather pattern had begun. I climbed out of the tent to pee and take a little look around...

I'm not sure why, but I packed up everything from outside the tent on this morning. Usually the inner things are done before I even open the tent flap. Maybe it was just because my shoes were already on? Whatever the reason, it seemed to make the process easier...

Beside a dry spot, the Modern Nomad leaves no trace.

I was surprised and amused at how close I was to Burlington. It was about a one mile walk when I saw the cemetery come into view. This landmark told me that University Drive (the street with one of the two Starbucks was located) was just ahead...

Nothing honors eternal peace like colorful plastic flowers.

I won't rant on cemeteries today. Churches were  enough for one week.

Best picture of the day. What does it mean? Not a freakin clue!

But, if you were looking for the "site," seems you have found it.

Along the sidewalk were the casualties of a semi-rainy night: Worms. Desiccated, forlorn, abandoned by their friends, and dead as doornails (even resembling doornails), the humble worms lie in state--little pink soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice. It is a rather ignoble and undignified state. Worms are amazing creatures they have a lot of heart. Well, they have five aortic arches which are kind of like hearts. They may appear a bit wet and slippery but - like me - they are not big fans of rain. That is why they seek to escape being over saturated by crawling out onto pavement.

Unfortunately, though they are full of heart, their brains (cerebral ganglia) aren't quite equipped to deal with short changes. They "know" to head away from water, but sometimes not when to head back to the safety of their precious home--the soil. Just slightly too much time in puddle and the end comes quickly. They need to adhere slightly to a surface in order to move, and cannot do that if they are floating in water. When all is dry again, in the cold light of morning, what we are left with is... worm jerky. I counted no less than twenty of these little guy-girls (worms are hermaphrodites who reproduce using a kind "69" position to do the wild thing)...

Twelve inches back to safety. Might as well have been twelve miles.

I found Starbucks at the end of what appeared to be a new section of box stores and chain restaurants (because, you know, you never really can have enough). And, I worked there for the rest of the day. It was a tiny store. And, I worked at a table hidden over near where supplies are taken out and delivered to.

It was not a good choice on my part; loud and irritating. And, I swear (because I did swear--under my breath), there was one woman standing two feet away from me who spent over an hour arranging sandwiches in their plastic bags on a big tray, to be refrigerated. All I heard was, crinkle...crinkle, crinkle......crinkle...crinkle, crinkle, crinkle... I almost asked her if she was okay. Ha!! I put my earphones in, not to listen to music, but as earplugs against the pernicious crinkling.

On the way to Starbucks I'd seen an excellent possibility (or so I thought) for a sleep spot. When I had processed pictures, written up the day's post and been crinkled into near-oblivion, I left and headed to the short pine-treed area I'd chosen.

Once there, it was an easy trek through the tightly spaced trees to a clearing in the middle. Everything seemed so ideal. It was just what I look for in a sleep spot. Yet, because it was so dark, I couldn't see just how uneven the ground was, nor that it was mostly grass, not the coveted pine needles or leaves that I prefer...

Grass = cold ground. Bumps = uncomfortable sleep.

When the tent was up and before I'd crawled into it. I stood and took in the night air, convinced that I'd scored yet another great spot. Then, suddenly, I heard what sounded like a siren across the street. Then it sounded again, but dropped in pitch and was joined by other such sounds, which became random and insane... Coyotes!!

Finally, my long-missed friends were around again. That is not sarcasm. I genuinely enjoy their presence. After my close interactions in Nashville, I no longer feared these most intelligent of the animals in my Journeys. To know they were nearby was like being near neighbors who had a really good time only once a night, but pretty much keep to themselves. I have never heard them celebrate twice in a night. On this night, I would actually hear them again, further out. Must've been a lucky night for them and an unlucky one for a couple rabbits.

In the picture below, you can see why they were out there; plenty of field to hunt in. The chance that they would cross the road was very remote, since they had all they needed over on that side. It was just nice to know that they were around again. It had been many weeks since I'd heard them.

I did not sleep very well; turning from left to right over and over again. The bumps under me were situated in particularly bad spots. But, I had chosen where I was--tried to own it, and just had to get through the night.