Let me say it (again): nothing could be nicer than to sit with a book and glass of wine on the screened-in porch, exactly at dusk, in those twenty minutes of the day when the cicada-song builds to a crescendo; to look across the black-and-silver water, and watch a fish jump, and know that the unseen gators are active; to hear a slight crunching noise, and glance down to see a buck nosing through the pine needles, quite unaware of your presence. You will think to yourself, This is it, I've got it all.
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