I've mentioned it before, but something has happened in the past 6 months that astounds me. I keep chewing on it, trying to figure it out. Everything got busy. All at once. There was an imperceptible shift, and suddenly I find myself hanging onto the tail of the time monster just trying to keep a firm grip. There is a huge grin on my face all the while, but still, it is a change, and change can be difficult.My dearest gallant knight seemed to sense that I needed to step away for a little bit, and swooped me up for a trip out of town. The magazine was at the printer(to be delivered here for mailing tomorrow), most things were in a stage that could be left for a bit, and my sister agreed to manage the farm market without me - so off we went to Atlantic City.
It comes as a surprise - even to me - that I have a weakness for casinos. The fact that they overlook the ocean makes it even better! After a period of lights and noise, I could wander out to the beach and pick up shells or watch the seagulls swoop and dive.
Our room was high above the shoreline with a great view of the ocean. I could go prop my feet on the low window ledge and read, pausing every so often to watch the waves roll in. It was so relaxing. The food was all delicious, but the first night we went to an exquisite restaurant where they served a mushroom/crab soup. It was so good we both ate every drop. When we commented on how perfect it was, they offered us the recipe! I can't wait to try it.
My mission on the beach was to find tiny shells - snail, conch, and scallop in particular - for a craft I have in mind. I found so many that the exercise from bending to pick them up combined with the walking in the fresh sea air made me feel lively and rejuvenated.
There is something about standing on the shore that captivates me. Each wave makes me consider where that water has been. What small turbulence made the wave? Every bit of wind that ravages my hair makes me wonder what that air has curled around before. It has come so far to get to where I stand. Holes in the puffy clouds create pockets of sunshine on the calm surface out beyond the waves and make me wonder what it would be like to be at sea, and see nothing except what nature hands out.
The families that play along the beach seem to notice none of that, only aware of the sand and the water and the wind. The birds pick at the shells on the beach, oblivious to the enormity of the ocean and all that comes with it. I am always in awe at the shoreline.
So now I'm home. I should be tired from the trip and the long drive. Instead, I'm crunching through the debris that has piled up, happily setting things right. Sometimes getting away is exactly what is needed.
