Over the last couple weeks, four very good friends have left the Keys. Forever. This is hard.
I was running today. Nothing unusual there. I run virtually every day. But, I was more melancholy today, a bit depressed. My mind was wandering here and there, mostly to the fact that one way or another, those we love leave. I began to think about a story someone wrote for me, and about me, after my father died. It was mostly about weathering storms. As I was thinking about all this, a huge flock of egrets and ibis took flight out of the Coupon Bight before my eyes. When I say a huge flock, I am not exaggerating dozens & dozens of those large birds, the sky was filled with white. I guess my footsteps alerted them to go, who knows. But as I watched them take flight, I began to think more about life after storms, the genesis of which, dare I say, is called hope.
Saying goodbye to good friends is never easy. Down here people come and go at a much quicker pace then where I come from. Friendships are forged over glasses of wine at the pub, smoothies at the juice bar, and while swinging a hammer for a friend in need. Then poof they're gone. Weathering storms.
I've been behind on posting because I admit it I just feel a little blue.
After the birds took flight, I shifted my pace from sprint training, instead easing into a more gentle and fluid pace. I started the run with the desire to pummel my body with as intense a workout as I could stand, but the birds somehow were a message to slow down, I might miss something.
I found myself in front of Pop's house. I could see from the street that he was not in his chair waiting for me. I was running at a different time than I usually do today. He would not be expecting me then. But, I stopped anyway and stared at his home. I knew where he would be sitting in the house at that moment, and most likely what he was doing (reading a Western, or his Bible). I saw close to 20 shore birds large and small scattered about his yard and bird baths. Two Key deer were bedded down under palm trees seeking refuge from the heat, and a medium sized iguana was sunning himself on the pea rock of Pop's driveway. I took a mental picture at that moment, all of it... Pop inside, the animals, the blue sky and the palms. I guess we're all entitled to a moment or two of sadness, to wallow, whatever you want to call it. But I realized its time to shake it off.
So, tomorrow is another day, and I continue the quest to shake it off. Weathering the storm means the sun rises again.
Beach Boys music rolls through my head, reminding me life goes on through restful waters, or deep commotion. Who needs Buddha when you've got Beach Boys.
I expect tomorrow shall be a beautiful day, no matter the weather. This sailor shall sail on, sail on indeed.
I was running today. Nothing unusual there. I run virtually every day. But, I was more melancholy today, a bit depressed. My mind was wandering here and there, mostly to the fact that one way or another, those we love leave. I began to think about a story someone wrote for me, and about me, after my father died. It was mostly about weathering storms. As I was thinking about all this, a huge flock of egrets and ibis took flight out of the Coupon Bight before my eyes. When I say a huge flock, I am not exaggerating dozens & dozens of those large birds, the sky was filled with white. I guess my footsteps alerted them to go, who knows. But as I watched them take flight, I began to think more about life after storms, the genesis of which, dare I say, is called hope.
Saying goodbye to good friends is never easy. Down here people come and go at a much quicker pace then where I come from. Friendships are forged over glasses of wine at the pub, smoothies at the juice bar, and while swinging a hammer for a friend in need. Then poof they're gone. Weathering storms.
I've been behind on posting because I admit it I just feel a little blue.
After the birds took flight, I shifted my pace from sprint training, instead easing into a more gentle and fluid pace. I started the run with the desire to pummel my body with as intense a workout as I could stand, but the birds somehow were a message to slow down, I might miss something.
I found myself in front of Pop's house. I could see from the street that he was not in his chair waiting for me. I was running at a different time than I usually do today. He would not be expecting me then. But, I stopped anyway and stared at his home. I knew where he would be sitting in the house at that moment, and most likely what he was doing (reading a Western, or his Bible). I saw close to 20 shore birds large and small scattered about his yard and bird baths. Two Key deer were bedded down under palm trees seeking refuge from the heat, and a medium sized iguana was sunning himself on the pea rock of Pop's driveway. I took a mental picture at that moment, all of it... Pop inside, the animals, the blue sky and the palms. I guess we're all entitled to a moment or two of sadness, to wallow, whatever you want to call it. But I realized its time to shake it off.
So, tomorrow is another day, and I continue the quest to shake it off. Weathering the storm means the sun rises again.
Beach Boys music rolls through my head, reminding me life goes on through restful waters, or deep commotion. Who needs Buddha when you've got Beach Boys.
I expect tomorrow shall be a beautiful day, no matter the weather. This sailor shall sail on, sail on indeed.
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