Today the Bishop and I headed to George L Smith II State Park.

Dog is my co-pilot. Or at least my seat warmer.

Last year at this time, the park’s bald cypress trees were gloriously orange-needled. This year they’re mostly, well, bald.

But it was still a lovely, sun-soaked afternoon, perfect for relaxing and rambling.

Orbs around the mill! Or maybe I just need to clean the camera lens.

We set out on the three-mile loop, but as I’m directionally challenged and the park’s trailhead maps seem totally illogical to me, I’m not sure how far we actually hiked. That we did a loop and that it was longer than a mile, though, I’m certain.

Thanks to recent rain, the trail smelled of wet pine needles.

This critter accompanied us for a little while.

I love fall colors juxtaposed with sunlit Spanish moss.

And this was a fun surprise along the trail:

After our walk, we had a little rest in the gazebo overlooking the mill pond. I tried to get Bishop to pose, but he wasn’t feeling too photogenic.

Canine eye-roll

***

Much as I’m excited for next week’s break, I’m also nervous. Town empties out, and by Tuesday my local friends will all be gone. I’m going to be on my own, alone, for most of a week. I don’t know whether I’ll love it, as I sometimes do, or feel lonely, abandoned, forgotten. I’m terrified of the latter, of all those spaces between minutes and days, of cracks I might fall into and be lost. There have always been too many of those cracks in my world.