Louisiana: 5

In Uncategorized on June 1, 2010 at 8:17 pm

After a half-hour, my bladder began to ache. Since I was in mixed company, I headed for the glade — but now the sun had vaporized, and I scanned the darkness for scales. Alligators have such control of their camouflaged bodies that I might not notice one until I’d stepped on it — and as moths fluttered around my sweat-beaded face, I kept spotting the outlines of gators, only to realize that they were logs or tufts of dead leaves. It really is a jungle out here, I thought.

Disgusted by the litter, my colleague Kate stuffed three trash-bags full of rubbish, and we drove them to the nearest receptible, a half-mile from the lagoon. As we prepared to hurl the bags into a dumpster, a dozen feral cats leapt from the piles of garbage. They meowed at us, trotting in circles around the minivan, before springing into the darkness.

“We should write the governor a letter,” Jim scowled as we turned onto a dirt road. But we knew that the refuse of some drunk townies hardly compared with the millions of barrels of oil now gushing into the Gulf of Mexico. All the life we had seen — dragonflies, gators, birds, bugs — now hung in the balance.


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