Satan’s Breath
- maggiehsmith07
- Sep 2, 2023
- 2 min read
This week was the first week in many where when you opened the door to your air conditioned home, the outside air that greeted you was not like the exhalation of Satan’s breath hitting you square in the face. I picture Satan on a yoga mat, ujjayi breathing, where you heat your breath deep in your throat.
We went to the cottage on Friday after work and the evening air was inviting so we sat on the back deck and gazed at the motionless river. I eventually retreated inside but Andrea sat long after the sun sank from the sky.
Today we explored the area, stumbling upon a used bookstore that was affiliated with the local library. The profits went back into the library. So - book buying for a cause! Needless to say, we made a contribution before heading to the neighboring tavern. We had learned of the tavern while sitting at the bar at a seafood restaurant that is near the cottage. Andrea loves sitting at the bar because she says you meet interesting people and learn interesting things. It turns out, she is right. Her theory has been proven on more than one occasion. During this particular occasion, we met an older couple from Florida who was on their way to Maine next. The man was originally from Maine. They had visited a tavern that was housed in an old inn. The rest of the inn showcased handmade wares by spinners and blacksmiths. So that’s where we went next, after our stop at the bookstore. The tavern was not what you would imagine. It was run by volunteers who sold food on a rotating menu. We purchased a loaf of almond brioche and a small craft and then continued onto a marina called Horn Harbor. Horn Harbor has a small restaurant and an adjacent tiki bar. You can drive to it like we did or boat up. It’s on the Wicomico river. We ate a late lunch outside on their back deck. In the summer, it’s seldom nice enough to eat outside, but today there was a nice breeze off the water. Two couples sat behind us and the one man told a long story in a voice that’s best described as southern genteel - a low, soft drawl.


I feel as though I’ve left my brain outside my body to recharge. Which is kind of nice. I took a too long, too late nap. I may regret that later but for now, I just feel better.
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