For July 4th, my wife Pat and I traveled up the Eastern Shore of Virginia. If you drive it correctly, it's like a Land That Time Forgot. The best parts of yesterday's trip were the small moments, as usual.

Seeing a whale skull: amazing.

Black Swallowtail butterflies have always struck me as exquisitely beautiful.

The sweet odors of a lush, sun baked and shaded woods take me deep into my childhood, as does the tart flavor of wild Blackberries plucked fresh off the bush and laid on the tongue.

Seeing a 16" big gun BUNKER from WWII was quietly, eerily powerful, but I liked the Mud Wasp nests built on its cement walls even more.

The huge, black Cormorants were simply awesome in their size and the sounds their wings made through the air.

The salt marshes are beautiful (as long as you don't attempt to walk them), and the busy, side-scooting crabs on the delicate marsh mud are blatant reminders life goes on TOTALLY INDEPENDENT of our existence. They were here first, and I... well, I ain't doodly. The Crabs didn't even see us, let alone become concerned.

If that wasn't enough, we found a very old graveyard with worn, isolated, poetic birth/death headstones from more than 220 years ago, which raised the "Ain't Doodly" factor even higher. The Crabs have never noticed THEM... except for the few caught, killed, and eaten by these long-gone Humans. The Humans then turned the Crabs into fertilizer, and in turn, did the same with themselves with no more importance.

From the mud we rise. To the mud we sink.

There's probably a poem in here somewhere... but the Crabs, Cormorants, Whales, and Butterflies don't care. They know the score. They were Before, they are Now, and they will Be.

We are no different. Get over it.