Arrival:
Don't look at the picture yet. Let me set the
stage.
5:30 a.m. I awoke in my cheap, nasty hotel in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. This
place was so low-scale
I had to supply a $10 security deposit just to use the phone. The room
was only
slightly larger than the bed. The air conditioner sounded like
two Gamelon orchestras playing Battle of the Bands all night.
Just a few minutes into my morning shower,
the water temperature started fluctuating, and the water pressure
dropped, dropped, dropped.
The realization that the water was in short supply came late.
I was lathered head to toe.
The water flow diminished. It devolved into a trickle. Then a dribble.
By this point,
I was on my knees in front of the spigot, harvesting precious drops like an
Arrakis fremen, desperately trying to rinse away my suds.
The shower was over, and
I had to finish the soap removal using a dry towel. It wasn't completely
effective, but perhaps it had its bonuses, as we shall see.
The first site in southern New Jersey was loaded with
Drosera filiformis.
