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March 07, 2005
Day One
(from New Years day...)
It was a beautiful out, a great first day. Mellow. I had just slowly driven over the three bridges from the mainland for the first time in ages. The clarity of the air allowed me an especially expansive view, as well as a bird’s eye view of the bays and marshes. The recently warm green marsh grass was now straw, the water still a deep dark blue. The back-bay cuts, the fishing holes, everything, ...looked fresh, seen from a different angle. Not in the mood for rock, I fiddled with the radio for something more fitting. The seek button took me to NPR where they were discussing Iraq-gate. "Nah, not today". Next station was playing Louie Armstrong’s "What a Wonderful World". Perfect match for the scene. I smiled.
Off the last bridge and now on the barrier island, I slowed the car to a stop. A deer, no more than 15 feet away, didn’t run away. She looked up at me and seemed to smile. I parked where I had a view down a walkway to the ocean. Satchmo had finished singing, so I hit the beach. My path left footprints in the fine ancient sand, winding along side the windswept dunes. The gentle surf splashed out a rhythm, to which I set my pace as I absorbed the day. An elderly couple, out enjoying a stroll on this first day of the rest of their lives, was slowly approaching from where I figured to be heading. They both appeared to be around 85 years old, their faces, weathered by the wind, the sun, and life, looked as old and worn as the sand. Then from about 10 feet away, I really noticed them. Walking arm in arm, their eyes and smiles sparkled like they were 17 years old, or maybe even five! They were beaming, glowing with a happiness that was undeniably real, and we wished each other a Happy New Year in passing.
A few minutes later, a little girl, about 3 years old, ran from her father, and gave me a "Happy New Years!" sea shell, just for me! She, along with her father and myself were all smiling as much as possible.
Down at the water, Piping Plovers were putting on a show. Piping Plovers are a threatened/endangered species of water bird, very small, round bodied, about 5 inches high. They have tiny little legs and a tiny, but long beak to peck under the sand with. A bunch of about 50 of them were working the beach to the delight of about a dozen onlookers. They move as a pattern, staying about a foot away from each other. When a wave recedes, they rush in like mad, and feed with their beak for maybe a second before the next wave chases them all, all still in formation, back up the beach. Again, more smiles all around. I was feeling that today, the world was giving me something. Waves and waves of smiles, coming at me.
Then someone threw a stone and they flew off, still holding the pattern. I headed back to the car, and looked down at the water. I was going to do some reading, but I felt I was already "reading", ...just not from a book. I kept the radio off, and was just thinking about everything and nothing, looking around. Some guy in a minivan proceeds to pull up and park two spots in front of me blocking my view. There hadn’t been a car within 100 yards of me in the empty lot. The couple in the car are fighting and not even looking at the view! So I look out to the side where there was a flock of birds and a bunch of people. I see the old happy couple getting into their car, and smile again. I see a chaotic mess of seemingly evenly spaced, excited seagulls frantically screeching, flapping their wings like mad, flying every which way. I see another, gull, solitary, motionless, gently hanging on the breeze. Some guy is dragging his little kid behind him, and almost drags him in front of a passing car. In an almost empty parking lot. I see another father joyfully chasing after his son in a playful race, both radiant.
I start singing to myself, absentmindedly, "I see skies of blue…", and then go blank, forgetting the words. I turn on the radio, finding some really good old, old blues, which I love. The sounds are hitting the spot. And suddenly I realize, perhaps not for the first time, when I "ASK" for something, I all too often assume the answer will be "NO". By now, today’s footprints are gone, blown by the same winds that said YES today. Somehow, I’m sure the waves are still rolling in. I just can’t see from here.
Posted by Ocean at March 7, 2005 05:31 AM