Port Longing

It took a day for the Wildwood Shepherds to re-acclimate to the woods.

They do love it here. Adventure is almost endless – even in the bushes around the house – when the woods end at the front steps.

Still, there is no sea breeze. East Texas in August melts candle wax in the shade. There are squadrons of cardinals and titmice, chickadees and sapsuckers, all watching for the water sprinkler to start, but there are no gulls to aaawk at them at daybreak or pelicans to whoosh by the deck on the way to someone’s fish cleaning table.

There are tree stumps and there are turtles, but there are no turtles the size of tree stumps. Pack animals rule these woods, but they don’t swim by in exuberant pods or magically appear below as you lean over the gunwale.

Alas. There is no sand dune to slide down, no surf to bound through, and your people are busier with dustpans and garden hoses than dip nets and sand castles. No one is introducing you to all manner of fish and sea life. Editor’s Note: All small fish are fascinating to Shepherds, but one larger than the dog might keep her or him in the stern.

We are certain of this: When we hook up the boat and head south next summer there will be some excited dogs at Wildwood. Now, when they see a rod lifted, there is an expectation. They recognize the rattle of trailer chains.

These dogs get Port longing just like we do.