This is my post for #freewriters 2865 write something! hosted by 
Today I took a break from pulling weeds and drove to the river, so I will write something! about my day. First, I went to the Roseland Community Center and walked out their dock. It sits on the Sebastian River.
My dad's first wife was related to Roseland's first citizen, Dempsy Cain, she was a Cain. My oldest brother and sister are her and Dad's children. My grandparents lived on the other side of the river. They came here by ox and wagon in the 1890s. My Dad was born here in 1922.
The first thing I thought when I walked to the end of the dock was that the second dock towards the railroad bridge is where my friend had his stroke and later passed away. It is a pretty picture, but a bad memory.
I had to stop thinking about what happened to him, but the longer I stood there, the harder it was, and I could feel the tears coming. So I started walking back down the dock and stopped at the mangroves that grow along the shoreline.
As a child, my siblings and I would climb across them and swing on the roots that grow from the tops of the mangroves, but have not reached the ground where they root in. We thought we were like Tarzan. Sometimes one would break off, and we would fall into the mud.
Next, I went to the Indian River by the Sebastian River bridge. From there, I can see where I grew up. Dad had 15 acres that he leased from the County for 48 dollars a year. All of the white you see in this photo is it. It is across the river from where I now live.
I like to find fossils and pottery here, but the water was too high to look for them, so I sat and watched the wind blow.
You cannot see them in this picture, but tied to the dock are two boats, one looked to be sunk and the other is close to sinking. In the 1980s, after a storm, my husband and I were walking this shoreline, finding things that got washed up. We found what we thought was a bomb. We figured if it had not gone off by being beaten on the shoreline, it was safe to take it with us. We put it in the back of the car and took it to his Mom's house. She called the police to get it. The cop said he was not putting it in his cruiser, and he called the bomb squad. They came from Cape Canaveral to get it. It turned out not to be a bomb, it was a white phosphorus flare, and it was turned to armed but had not gone off. The thing was silver, three feet long, round, and had three fins on the bottom. We made the newspaper.
photos are mine
