We headed out for a few hours of rambling on our bikes. We decided to wander our little community, exploring the dozens of streets and roads that have managed to stay relatively undeveloped over the last several decades.
We passed a grassy area near the local golf course. The sandhill cranes were still curled in sleep. Apparently even sandhill cranes sleep in on Thanksgiving.
One street had a totally vacant block, a block comprised of beautiful white sand scrub, covered with Florida rosemary, wildflowers, and scrub oak.
A house not far from ours was decked out for the holidays with a glorious bougainvillea that had been allowed to fill the garden space by the front entrance of the home. We have one this same color in our back yard near the corner of our screen room. It provides an amazing display every holiday season.
Near the end of our ride we stopped at our community park on the lake. It certainly wasn't a day for fishing or recreational boating. The lake was choppy whitecaps to the horizon. Not at all like the smooth glassy surface we see when we head out to water ski at dawn in the summer.
The chilly ramble had given us an opportunity to say "Happy Thanksgiving" to a bunch of folks. Al pointed us for home. "Time to cook and feast," he declared. Good idea!
