Black Cat Road

Black Cat Road leads to the ocean, to vast, desolate beaches where a mind could wander into the waves. Toss the wandering mind into a sea of amniotic fluid. An old, arthritic, half-blind, nearly deaf black cat showed up to greet us as we pulled up to a farm house off a red dirt road.


For a minute, the cat looked scary, like something from an Edgar Allan Poe story. It let out a surreal, quiet meow and rubbed against my bare legs. I reached down and stroked the sooty, greasy fur and that cat became a friend to the lonely, restless traveler at the end of the road, near the edge of the ocean. Ok, I'll resist the temptation to write another sentimental cat story. The picture above says it all.

I spent two weeks there and did nothing except relax, walk barefoot and swim in cold water. Some days it rained. The wind blew strong. Mostly, the weather was good; clear sky, the peak of summer before hurricane season messes things up. No phone, no internet, no radio or TV, every night I slept like a baby. I could have stayed there forever.