No One Eats Breakfast in Florida

We’re headed to the village of Apalachicola, Florida today. Left Pensacola to drive east and north-ish through Navarre, a little beach town, past the other seaside clusters of houses on stilts. Along the way we see many donut, tattoo, and beach stores, but breakfast diners are scarce.

Perhaps people who eat a lot of donuts have more surface area, hence the many many tattoo options. Beach paraphernalia is important in these coastal areas. All overpriced items are half off.

It’s difficult to keep up with daily blogging here. “Be where your feet are,” I think. I want to gaze at waves and clouds, watch happily drunk tourists, and window shop.

We left Pensacola yesterday and drove down here, so I’m finishing this entry the next day. September 11th. Every year that date brings back memories and trauma. Empathic trauma. Is that a real thing?

Anyway, our campground for this little side trip is a lovely place near Apalachicola, called Coastline RV Resort. https://www.coastlinervresort.com/

Gorgeous! Right out our back window is the pier across the street. Zach and I went down there as the sun was rising to stretch, and go through a couple of sun salutations. Low, close wisps float by. Heavier fluffy clouds hang in the distance. A cluster of vultures swirls and soars over evergreens surrounding the campground. What’s the group word for vultures? I have to look that one up – a Kettle of Vultures.

Them Crooked Vultures

A flock of seagulls flies low, seeking breakfast fishes , over waves of the bay. Of course I can’t resist linking this next song. https://youtu.be/iIpfWORQWhU

If only there were a pelican band. OK Google… https://youtu.be/_Cb-scfsYSg