Mr. Hopkins told the crew to lay off this morning. Its raining...again. It's been raining now for a week and a half. Two members of the right-o-way crew already have reported some of the track pilings floating down the prairie. Some parts of the islands are flooded and there are lots of branches on the tracks. You can see the steam coming off the rails as the warm temperatures start to bake the ties.
Spring is here in South Georgia. Just one notch below Hades on the thermometer. Skeeters are starting to lay eggs and the alligators are going to mound. You can hear the bulls bellowing all night long, making your lantern rattle in shack. Everything is green exceptin' the grey cypress trunks.
Rex and Eugene worked on one of the Porters most of the day. She needed a little TLC. Rex cursed and swore as he continually wiped raindrops from his face, thanks to the leaky tin roof. You can hear the sizzle of the drops as they land on the furnace's vent hood. Eugene had to shoo away a little corn snake that had decided he'd had enough swimming for the day.
Outside its as dark as night as the thick clouds roll over the Okefenokee. Lightning reflects off the black water followed by the low, rolling thunder clap. Water is pooling up in the shop floor.
Coffee is hot, so help yourself.
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