Sinkhole

Today we went to see the lot we have under contract.  The winter stole the green from the grass but that's okay, it'll be back soon enough.  My niece, my sister, brother-in-law, brother and sister-in law came too.  Right away, if not for that very reason, I knew we had made the right choice.

The golf course itself has been purchased by the County.  They have a nearly 5 million dollar grant to renovate the course and will be sending all the county's wastewater here for irrigation.  You can read about it here.

I think the thing I'm most excited about though isn't even on our property, but just over the cart path which is our back property line.  It's a beautiful little sinkhole which we're told rises and falls with the tide.  This county has sinkholes all over it but I've never noticed one until now.  What's great is that it provides a little buffer between our back yard and the course.  

When I was growing up in Smith Creek, which is exactly 28 miles from this property, I would often wander just off our long driveway to a "branch" that ran under the two lane road.  It always had water in it and for some reason, I was fascinated by it.  One time my Daddy asked me why I liked it so much. Truth was there wasn't a lot in those big woods to keep me entertained. But that did. 

I would catch minnows and wish it was bigger and deeper so I could swim in it.  Every now and then, I'd see a small alligator in the shallow, tea colored water.  A friend and I even caught a baby one on a string with a piece of fried chicken.  Of course we dropped the string and ran away squeeling as soon as he was halfway out of the water. There were turtles and frogs aplenty and sometimes I'd just sit there, peaceful, daydreaming.  

...

When I saw this sinkhole, I immediately thought of that branch beside my childhood home.  Memories of those carefree days flooded my soul and as sure as I am breathing right now, I could feel my Daddy nearby.  Walking back to the front of the property, I stopped and looked over my shoulder so I could see it again, feel its pull.

And I knew I was home...