Can you still feel the air? Imagine the marsh grass turning golden right about now? Hear the soft cackling of the baby turkeys? Feel the mud between your toes? Time your rhythms to the tugs of the tides, the cycles of the moon?
Or, like me (and Mike, if I may speak for him), is your life timed by the 24/7 cycle of work, dinner, laundry, kids, or the pressures of the academic year, or of work projects and deadlines?
I know there is an oral history project starting up now; I don't know if it would taint the integrity of that research to begin our own dynamic here. But I have just learned to make blog pages, and the first thing that struck me was how wonderful it would be to use a site like this to connect to Ossabaw and to you, and to perhaps begin to retell, collectively, those old stories.
I am moved to do this today by an email thread that Dave Bayne has been circulating. If you are so moved, join me in this project. I can list any old Ossabites (Ossabaw-ites) as members of the blog (which means you can post your own comment. You can also post pictures and links in your messages. Let me know if you want to be a memberr: wwood@wellesley.edu.
Thinking of you, Sandy, Ossabaw....
Wini
