Where Secrets Lurk

The road leading from my childhood home to the beach was a tunnel of mossy live oaks and thick hammock leading toward the marsh. While my own parents had little interest in the beach, my best friend brought me on her family's beach days. Their Ford Aerostar would grow dark beneath the long shadows as we wound our way through, what the locals called, "The Loop". We loved this part of the drive - chanting about monkeys in trees teasing the alligator in the swampy waters below. 

We would go on to play mermaids and splash against the crashing waves while singing about wanting to be a part of another world. We delighted in the mysteries of our coastal ecosystem and the playground it provided for us.

Years later I would learn of a female serial killer dumping a body in these same woods and of phantom lights over the marsh as teenagers sped too quickly around the winding pavement. It's the kind of place where secrets lurk, and even in daylight the shadows creep like the night. 

This same canopy of greenery welcomes me home daily and the eery shadows still bring a smile to my lips as I remember little girls chanting about monkeys and that alligator in their jungle world.