The Creach Is The New Grand Central Station

After a brief lull, the Creach, our creek beach, is once again as busy as a Richard Scarry picture book! I almost need a push-button WALK/DON'T WALK signal to get across the road to fetch the mail from EmBee.

Monday afternoon, I might possibly have interrupted a tryst!

When I rounded the last curve, I saw a blue SUV kind of in the gravel road. It was beside the Bus-Waiting Shack. In the little gravel alcove where one of our local residents had her Creach towel spread out one day... was parked THE MAIL JEEP!

Let the record show that the USPS does NOT deliver up our gravel road. That vehicle had no business there during working hours. I might have mentioned that once before, I caught that mail jeep parked on the gated road across the low water bridge, again next to another car.

Why am I all at once humming "Afternoon Delight?"

I don't know what was going on, but there had been another car just ahead of me that turned onto the county blacktop road and headed towards town. When I parked T-Hoe to harvest the pile of mail I could see through EmBee's wide-open door (sloppy, sloppy, Mistress Mailman!), the blue SUV started its engine. I nonchalantly did not look! No good can come of interrupting the possible illicit tryst of a federal employee! One who might have an arsenal acquired from Farmer H's Storage Unit Store!

While my back was to them, the blue SUV drove up the gravel road, and the mail jeep made a T-turn and was leaving our gravel road as I walked back across to T-Hoe. It headed over the bridge, continuing its route.

I guess I know why our mail has been arriving later and later. There must be other Creach areas between here and town...