Walking through a shaded path near the Atlantic coast, the Spanish moss hanging from ancient oaks casting lingering shadows on the dirt trail, I find myself slipping into romantic reverie as the last vestiges of the Southern sun trace orange and pink designs on the dimming horizon. We pass by a glistening lake, it's surface softly reflecting the foliage above it. There's something about the South that I always find alluring...its rich history, perhaps, or maybe the hospitality of the people who live here, greeting you with their slow drawling accent...or maybe it's because here you can get really really really good sweet tea. Whatever it is, I like it. It's comfortable, peaceful even, especially with the distant sound of the waves crashing onto the sandy shore.

Two hours later, peaceful thoughts are dashed from my mind as all nine of us stumble through the darkness trying to find our way back home. Our beach house is nestled within in a maze of paths and forested area, and right now, it seems like we're stuck mostly in forest. I try to scan the pine-needle blanketed floor for any signs of snakes, alligators, or cobras (they have those here, right?) The tall trees, so warm and secure before, now loom over us, blocking what little moonlight there is. I manage a wry smile as we pass a "Please Do Not Feed the Alligators" sign. Wouldn't that be an exciting way to end our vacation...swallowed whole by a congregation of hungry reptiles. We finally make our way to a construction zone by a water tower, which we recognize as being close to our house. After scuttling under a tall fence (all the while expecting sirens to go off and angry LEOs taking us all away to jail for trespassing), we hurry past the fire department and police station and breathe sigh of relief at the sight of our condo ahead.

Just another typical day. The mishaps and mischances that seem to characterize my life keep me humble, I suppose, and make for good "Do you remember that one time..." stories.

I flex my wrist gingerly, case in point. It's been four days and it still hurts, but I don't think it's broken. More likely a bad sprain. But who knows. As long as I keep it wrapped with Self-Grip it seems to be okay. Two days of mountain biking in Virginia last week left me looking (and feeling) like I lost an MMA fight. It wasn't even the jumps that I got hurt on...I lost my balance crossing a bridge and then just plain lost control another time. But otherwise I had fun!

It's good to be away, on a different schedule, in a different environment. A gentle adjustment to summer life. It's always hard for me coming off of a hard semester, where things are ordered and rigid and always stressful and demanding, to the summer, where there's usually no schedule, little order, but still projects to do and things to accomplish.

It's been a little over two weeks since I had my last final and I am finally ready to say...Hello Summer!!!