Jubilee in the Wilderness
SUSAN TYNER|CONTRIBUTOR “Get up! Get up! It’s Jubilee!!” my friend Sidney shouted. I didn’t understand her at first. Three of us were on a girls’ trip marred more by rain than sunshine. I was hoping to sleep in on my last morning, but Sidney’s voice broke through the sleepiness as she woke me and our other friend, Valerie. “Y’all! It’s Jubilee!” For those of you who didn’t grow up near Mobile Bay, Alabama, Jubilee is a rare occurrence when fish, shrimp, crabs, and even eels swarm close to the shoreline, making them easy to scoop from the water’s edge. No one can predict such a show, but when it happens, it feels like a surprise party thrown by God for anyone close enough to grab a net. Without brushing my teeth or my hair, I grabbed yesterday’s shorts off the floor and ran outside. Schools of fish with gaping mouths crowded near the sandy edge. Giant blue crabs hung out in the shallow water. Flounders floated under the water within striking distance. After the first adrenaline rush was over, I grabbed a cup of coffee, pulled my hair back in a ponytail and returned to the wharf to gaze at the water below. A colony of shrimp way off course hovered around the pier’s post. I saw an eel dart by. The birds clamored over the water getting their share of Jubilee, too. My choice was to watch from a safe, dry distance on the wharf or to risk ruining my tennis shoes to join in the wet fun...