Epilogue (exerpt, rough draft)

As time passed, as time does, it came about that there were more church members resting on the hillside behind the little white church than were resting on the pews inside the church. And so on an appointed, and voted upon, day the old deacon closed the church house doors for the last time. Inside the building the closing of the door echoed off the bare walls but the sound was unheard. Not again would the preacher preach. Not again would the choir stand to sing. The Altos, sopranos, tenors and bass are all gone. The song books donated to another church. With the closing of the doors they all became a part of an unwritten history. The pulpit now stood empty; a silent sentinel, a sermon without words entitled Time Marches On. No reporters from any newspapers covered the story; no one arrived either to witness, protest or celebrate this end of an era.
   Not long ago he arranged a trip that included a visit to this very place. On a sunny day in late October day he arrived. His coming was accompanied by a flurry of falling leaves like confetti falling in colors of red, brown, orange and yellow. The bright colors starkly contrasting the weathered church house with its rusted tin roof. The passing years and even many more passing seasons had altered it's appearance. The once clean white country church with its proud bell tones echoing across the valley, had been transformed by times artistic hand. No paint remained. The artist had removed it chip by chip till only weathered wood remained.
   Something un-named within him would not allow him to approach the doors. Did he fear they would not open? Was he afraid they would? He decided instead to make his way through the waist high weeds surrounding the church . They were brown with autumn. He approached the window and resisted  the urge to begin pulling down the years of vines that had overtaken the building. Some window panes were still intact. Many more were missing. A vandal? A carelessly thrown or carefully aimed stone from some bored boy? It could not possibly matter now. The window panes that remained were not any longer clear but covered by many layers of summer dust rising from the dirt road and settling on the glass. "Walk away" he thought he heard a voice within him warn. "But I've come this far" he replied. And so through an empty window pane he looked inside and gazed upon a scene that more than 40 years could not alter.

Marine Biology 101

Cedar Key marine life re-introduced back onto the sand bar today.

Sand dollars & hermit crabs free again

Horse shoe crabs 

-limulus polyphemus

Mud minnows freed too

Railroad vine blooming this morming

SNAKE KEY

The beautiful Snake Key appears to have become the new colonial bird nesting grounds here in the Cedar Keys National
Wildlife Refuge. For reasons unknown Seahorse Key has been abandoned. Today hundreds of brown pelicans and cormorants line the shore line trees. These along with spoon bills and frigate birds and several other varieties of shore birds make for a lively island.