Persimmon fruit, tasting like dust, dangles within reach. Conley points out wood ducks, vines and, last but not least, raccoon scat before we get to the dam that controls water flowing from the lake. There's a campground there run by the Army Corps of Engineers. Night has almost fallen. Conley switches on a flashlight attached to his kayak, waves goodbye and heads back.
Darkness comes on fast.
There's just time to put up a tent, fix dinner and retire on a thin mattress. The only sounds are crickets and running water from the spillway. Otherwise, the main impression of the swamp at night is deep silence. Before dawn, the woods beside the ditch are black. There's about 300 yards between the campground and the lake.