Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Once I scrambled over the guard rail and down the embankment, I realized I’d done a dumb thing.
Let’s face it, I use a motorized recliner lift chair to stand up in my own living room, and, at a recent Sunday service in church, the minister brought the bread and wine to me in my pew because I had trouble walking up as far as the altar—yet, yesterday here I was off the road in a wooded area using my cane to hobble down into a swamp of semitropical jungle… and no one in the world knew where I was.
Yesterday as I ran needed errands all over the city, I decided to visit Ginny’s grave, a thing I do a couple of times a week. On the drive there in a side trip, I’ve often noticed a bronze historical marker on Lenox Avenue, but I’ve never before stopped to read it; it’s buried a bit back in the bushes at the Cedar Creek Bridge.
It marks the spot of a Civil War skirmish when defenders droved yankee invaders back into enemy occupied territory in Jacksonville.
From the marker I noticed an overgrown path leading steeply down into the creek bed.
On a whim. the insane thought occurred to me that if I sat on a post, I could swing my legs over the rail and explore the steep downward path. Surely there are no snakes in that undergrowth. And I’m a man. I’m only 75. I can make it down there… and at least most of the way back up to the road.
You know, being a Christian does not necessarily make you smart.
So, not exactly being led by the Holy Spirit, in only four tries, I managed to wallow my arthritic legs over the barriers, over fallen logs, down the muddy downgrade and into the swamp. I batted vine tangles out of the way with my cane.
Nothing to it.
God wouldn’t let anything bad happen to a Christian…
I stood on the creek bank, swarmed by buzzing mosquitoes, watching a moccasin’s ripple through the dark water near the far bank. And I envisioned the fight on this spot a hundred years ago.
I felt pleased with myself that I’d taken this mini-adventure.
And yes, I did finally wallow out of the swamp where Confederate soldiers once bogged down. Except for the present day bridge, I felt I was slipping in that same historic mud.
A dumb thing to do.
It was worth the effort.