Returning to Roots

Today I had the opportunity to live out a dream from my childhood. Or, haunting nightmare, however you describe the water in the cup.

As I drove toward to Pigeon Key, prior to picking up Jeff, I became inspired to agregate ideas and memories -- leading to this log archived on the web. Possessing an unjustified disdain for Facebook, the one hit wonder of the web this year, I immediately created another account and then searched for blog software that both I, and the Cloud can host.

The pictures I wish I could host have been retained in my mind for most of my life, which is pretty amazing - especially since I don't know why. The dream involves me running out onto a road or a dock which eventually starts breaking up and floating upon the water surface. All I can do is keep running toward the horizon.

At the old bridge (Henry Flagler's rail line -> Old US-1) leading to Pigeon Key, I got to live out that dream -- which was amazing. Running back I experienced a surreal moment, gasping to breathe rhythmically, seeing super contrasting highlights from the sun with only an hour left, that I had seen before -- only now it was all brightly illuminated.

The old bridge was amazing to me. The man hours that went into it. The design and the accomplishment. It's usurping via the motorcar.

The satelites tracked me running back, which is all mapped and logged at crossingways.com.