Going up the country

I’m going, I’m going where the water tastes like wine
Well I’m going where the water tastes like wine
We can jump in the water, stay drunk all the time — Alan (Blind Owl) Wilson, “Going Up the Country,” Canned Heat.

It’s been almost a month since I have moved here and I have yet to venture to the woods. There is no particular reason. I haven’t found the need to go to the woods. I’ve been to the beach. Now I hear it’s infested with seaweed from the Sargasso Sea. Bummer dude.

Somehow it just feels like the right time to go “up the country” to the woods. I say that because you can’t really go down to the country because you’ll end up in the Sargasso Sea. I don’t know where I’ll go. Perhaps I’ll go to the Big Thicket. Maybe I will visit Cow Creek. Most likely I will find a little dirt road on which I can pull down, park and listen to the soft song that the wind makes when it rustles through pine trees.

Maybe some of my friends question my decision to move here. But I like being nestled in between the Gulf of Mexico to my south and the East Texas pineywoods to my north. Those places have their own little charms, as does my neighborhood. So do I, when you get to know me.

Got to get going … sometime soon.

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