Ocracoke. I went on a long morning walk down a sandy road that follows the marsh and finally leads to the ocean. A fisherman or two passed by in their pickups but no one else was around. I had the marsh to myself. After a while a woman passed me running a good pace, then passed me again some 30 minutes later after I’d turned around. “Fighting the greenheads!” she said smiling. “They haven’t been biting me that bad, ” I said. “Really? They’re killing me, ” she said. “Well you’re sweating more than me, ” I called after her. Sometimes, in an effort to speak, I say the most idiotic things.