it's nearly dusk, and there's a pelican bobbing out past the shore break in the water. oh man! i meant to get more photos of pelicans this trip...but the weather didn't really facilitate it...all cool, cloudy, rainy and windy - for most of the week we were here.
even with the grey - the sky; cloudy - the water; reflecting the sky - the sand; all shadowy - my spirits were lifted. even though i felt grey on the inside too; fighting a sore throat the first few days, and not breathing well today. being gracious that, for now, caffeine seems to be doing the trick.
but back to the spirits lifted thing....it's vacation. isn't that what vacations do? and why? why does the simple change of landscape impact me so much? is it even that? is it because my sweet love isn't working, isn't watching the clock, isn't sleeping as soon as he stops moving - that he is here by my side and not 4 hours away, or down the road - but actually HERE by me? holding my hand. stroking my shoulder, looking at me in the eye?
i don't know.
but it's our last night here. in florida. and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore lull me into a dance of breathing. like a baby's breath taking rhythm with mine, my own breath holds tight to the rhythm of the ocean pushing to shore.
and each time the water makes a move somewhere near enough to this hotel balcony for me to sync with it.
no sizzle on the sand as it's pulled back to see, like the Great Pacific did...no, these waves come one after another so quickly that the sizzle is lost - covered - by the sounds of the other waves crashing. typical Gulf of Mexico style. still in rhythm, but no delays. more like the thump. thump. thump. of a beat box in the car next to me - yet still the sound pulls me to dance to the waves.
so that's not the thing though. my breathing, it's good. i like the sound of the waves, and although i'm not sad that i didn't get to order the weather for this journey, only one partial day of sunny and 70, barely long enough to feel the sun on my shoulders. that was for me, that partial day of sun, where we put on sunscreen, only to be blown away by the sand as it skirted past the red warning flags along the shore.
WARNING!! SAND BLASTING!!
my face was red from windburn. not the glow from the sunshine that i'd imagined.
and the rest of our time has been cool. wet. windy.
oh- the temps warmed yesterday, back into the low 70's and we propped our balcony door open for a while, enjoying the warm breeze. it was night time though, dark. but still we heard that rhythmic lull.
and it was warm.
but this mood thing. the joy that fills my heart and makes me smile and get shoes on each day - it's more than having to go out to eat each day, it's the colors, the smells, the sounds of the coast. like being transported today, in the middle of the Lowe's garden center simply by the smell of the blooms on the citrus trees! limes. lemons. oranges. tangerines. grapefruit. tiny little flowers with the sweetest scent that moved me. nearly to tears. captured my heart. warm and fuzzy.
and the houses here on the island, painted all peach and periwinkle and mint green and blue. these colors visually stir my soul. like the coral paint chip that was pinned to the inside of my baby blue makeup bag for a year, as i debated painting my bedroom wall that color (when we lived in KY), each time i opened that bag, something stirred in me. like a squirt of cold water on my warm skin telling me to WAKE UP. LIVE.
but i got tired of the straight pin poking me, and we live in AR now, and the house wouldn't fit to paint a wall that color. the house is too traditional, too Mediterranean. too solemn.
but now. after this week, my eyes and my head and my heart are full of orange blossoms and color and joy, and i want to go home and paint the house the colors of the ocean, never mind what the next people will want; this is my home right now. i live there. now.
I WANT TO LIVE. THERE.
because when HE says "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10) i think that "the thief" can be a lot of things. a lot of different things, over time. and right now, i think that "the thief" is pleasantly disguised as a society; a social mechanism that wants me to conform to what is acceptable in this neighborhood. in this real estate market. and it's smothering me. it's sucking the life out of me. this is NOT a full life. this is a life so compromised to society that when i walk in to this house that is home in every way, it's beige. and beige leaves me worse than grey.
because grey in sky and sea and sand has tones of black, white, and every tone between. even beige. but more of the peaches, and pinks, the blues, and periwinkles, and greys and it sets off the light. fills me with light. and life. to the full.
and who cares if society comes in and says "whoa! that's not the color i was expecting in the midst of this brick home neighborhood!" then so be it.
paint is cheap, in comparison to life.
to the full.