Monday July 24 There is an ocean out there. The days are good to me. The sun, trees, and water enhance my being. Even with hard core industry in some places, nature still rules. I have been out a long time on this journey, I am growing tired.
While loading the boat in the morning a barge came by. I had seen the tow many times before, I think. One of the bargeman steps out the door and yells, "have a safe trip downward!"
The river was bottle necked on the east side. A mile long sand bar chokes off the river. Barges were staked up in the constrictive area. The current was strong, barges coming downstream were passing through. I paddled near the bar through three inches of water.
I follow the western shore, a barge is coming up my side, with barges coming down. I hang tight to the bank and take some hard wakes from a barge that passes to close for comfort.
I go by a log cutting operation, mostly willows. Flocks of white birds, I was told they were cranes. Several colonies of periscoping turtles plopping into the river like dominos.
Passed the White River, I am camping on a sand bar near Rosedale, Mississippi.
Diary entry from the book {Prometheus Lives} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas
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