Hi Gang!
We’re watching the Super Bowl tonight like nearly everyone else in the world (actually, I’m watching Ted and Blake watch the Super Bowl while I cook)!
I’ll be back the first part of the week with news and pics from Florida and Mackinac . . . AND an update on what the veterinary orthopedic surgeon says on Monday afternoon about Bear’s knee.
Enjoy the game!
What started out as a routine teeth cleaning appointment for Bear will probably turn into his second knee surgery in under seven months.
I asked my vet to evaluate Bear’s knees while she had him under anesthesia for his cleaning on Tuesday morning. The good news is his teeth are healthy and sparkling white. The bad news is the knee that wasn’t operated on in August has gotten worse and is – in her words – “a time bomb waiting to go off.”
Sweet Bear – just before we left for his cleaning appointment.
So – on Monday afternoon we will load him up and take him down to Daytona to a veterinary orthopedic specialist and see what they have to say.
I confess to having a little cry when I got the news. Dang it! He was doing so well, and I was hoping against hope that the second knee (that we knew was partially torn when the other one went out) was healing, even though all the research states that was highly unlikely. My tummy was already tightening into a knot over what was to come (ignorance was pretty much bliss before the first knee surgery – now I KNOW what lies ahead).
Then last night, as I was trying to read myself to sleep, the words in a chapter of The Gift of Years jumped off the page at me. The chapter was titled “Mystery”, and author Joan Chittister said, “Mystery is what happens to us when we allow life to evolve rather than having to make it happen all the time.” I realized I was already anticipating the first wo weeks of rigid exercise restriction for Bear, the next four weeks of potty walks only, and the next six weeks of slowly working him back into a normal activity level – except NO running or jumping – in other words NO FUN. AND we have the added challenge of being in a two-story house now.
I almost laughed out loud. That same 12-week period will pass whether Bear has the surgery or not, but I already convincing myself how terrible it was going to be. How could I possibly know that? How could I possibly know that the only thing of note in that 12-week period would be Bear’s knee surgery? What about the mornings and afternoons on the beach? What about the spring flowers we’ll be adding soon to the pots in the back yard? What about Matthew’s soccer games and Jordan’s dance recitals? What about bike rides, and walks, and dinners out, and sitting on the third floor deck on breezy afternoons? What about boats rides to Bing’s Landing for barbeque or St. Augustine for seafood? What about the hours volunteering at the Humane Society and at the hospital? None of that stops because Bear may have surgery. Life will go on, but it’s up to me to make sure I don’t let one negative destroy all the positives that will accompany it.
If the surgeon says on Monday he feels Bear needs the surgery, we will probably go ahead and schedule it right away. That way, by spring, he will be – good Lord willing – at the same place in the recovery cycle he is now with the other knee, which is pretty much back to normal. An added positive to that – we can plan our time on Mackinac Island without the worry of the “time bomb” going off and another cancelled trip.
Mystery – letting life evolve rather than having to make it happen.
I like that a lot.
Sunrise over the Atlantic on Tuesday morning.
Such a GREAT weekend!
When Blake worked in Colorado, he shared a house with Anna and Rich Lebedda and their precious daughter Emi. Blake was there through the first year-and-a-half of Emi’s life, and she calls him Unkie B. Anna has been visiting family in the south for the last week or so, and since our place was a half-way point between two family members, she and Emi spent the night here last night. Nothing like a two-year-old to make you feel young again!
This is how we make Unkie B climb the steps over and over again . . .
. . . until we finally take a two second break.
Emi’s first time at the ocean – she found shells fascinating and filled all her pockets with them!
Emi and sweet Anna.
Emi and her Unkie B.
Update on Blake: Blake will not be returning to Turkey, and I just have to tell you this mom is so relieved. He is staying with Ted and I while he sends out resumes, and we are thoroughly enjoying him being here. It’s been almost 18 years since we’ve seen Blake for any length of time besides holidays and vacations – and there have been times when he’d be overseas and we wouldn’t see him for over a year. But . . . he is anxious to get on with the rest of his life, and we fully understand that. Please keep him in your prayers as he searches for what God has planned next for him.
DREAMS STILL COME TRUE
Many, many years ago I walked through a model home in Panama City, FL and saw sheer curtains being blown out into a room by ocean breezes. I thought at the time it was one of the most visually soothing images I’d ever seen. The vision stayed with me, and one of my main wishes for our Florida house was based on that image – silly, I know, but some things just stick with you.
This morning I walked into the family room and saw this . . .
The simple things you dream about – sometimes they take years to come to pass . . . and sometimes they never do. Thank you, Lord, for granting me this one. It made me laugh out loud and grab the camera.
Update on me: On Thursday evening I told you in the blog post about my incident with dog walking at the Humane Society and that I was fine. Well, after sitting at the computer writing that blog, I got up to discover a huge knot behind the injured knee. Things like that always scare me more than the average person because I have a history of blood clots (two in the other leg – a long time ago). Anyway, I decided to be over-cautious and go to the ER at 9 p.m. that evening. We got there to find the waiting room FULL of people and were quickly told all the computers were down and things were moving at a snail’s pace. We stuck it out and were finally discharged around 2:30 in the morning after six x-rays and an exam by a sweet lady doctor who looked 14 years old and was much too chipper and happy for someone working all night. Diagnosis: Deep tissue trauma and sprained knee ligaments. I was sent home with pain pills, a knee wrap, and instructions to act my age. The knee wrap helped, the one pain pill I took didn’t help the knee, but sure made everything else feel better, and the jury is still out on whether I’ll ever act my age. My mother always asked my daddy when he was ever going to grow up. His answer was always the same – “I hope never!”
I’m with you, daddy!
GOOD STUFF FROM MACKINAC
How. Gorgeous. Is. This. Creature! A white barn owl, captured by Clark Bloswick.
A cold winter morning shot across the Arnold Ferry dock from a Chippewa Hotel room deck. (Photo: Josh Carley)
Same morning, same photographer – looking the other direction across the marina.
You can still find a few bicycles on the island – although I don’t think they’re in use right now! (Photo: Orietta Barquero)
Four to six inch ice crystals growing out of the lake. (Photo: Robert McGreevy)
No words needed. Photographer – Robert McGreevy.
Oh, and speaking of Robert McGreevy. That’s him standing out there on the ice trying to get some of those great photos he shares! The ship is the Peter R. Cresswell. (Photo: Molly McGreevy)
Early this morning. The Algosteel’s spotlights probe the ice west of the lighthouse. The freighter became stuck in the ice, but the Coast Guard Cutter and icebreaking tug Katmai Bay was able to free it several hours later.
Y’all have a great week, and I’ll see you back here sometime before the weekend!
God bless.
My goal this week was to visit both the Flagler County Humane Society and Florida Hospital Flagler to pick up volunteer application forms. Easy breezy – within 45 minutes on Tuesday I’d driven to both places, parked, gone inside to pick up the applications, and returned home.
At the humane society I was asked to sign up to return for a walk-through of the facility so I could decide where and what I’d like to do. No need to procrastinate, I thought, so I said I’d be back at 1 p.m. today.
I was met this afternoon by a staff member and quickly taken through the various rooms of cats and dogs. This is a huge facility, and they are very active in the community, with adoption events going on practically every month. They are dedicated to finding good homes for their charges, and everyone I met there – both staff and volunteers – was friendly and helpful. After my tour I was told to come back to work anytime at my convenience and to feel free to help out in any area where I felt comfortable. I asked about dog walking and was told I’d need to be trained by one of the other regular walker volunteers.
On my way to put my purse in the car – so I could go back inside and love on some kitties – a dog walker rounded the corner with a sweet mid-sized dog. I introduced myself, said I needed training, and she said, “Great! Come back in, and we’ll pick out an easy one for you to start on.”
I told my new friend I knew I couldn’t handle really big dogs because of a shoulder problem, but I thought mid-sized dogs would be fine. She introduced me to a sweet mix and showed me how to enter the cage and attach a leash. She picked out another dog for herself, and out we went.
My immediate thought was, “Wow! This dog isn’t leash trained!” Well, duh, Brenda, what made you think he would be? After 15 minutes of being pulled around the large area the facility uses for dog walking, I knew I was probably going to need to choose another task. But, what the heck, I decided to try one more.
There were two really excited dogs sharing a cage – both smaller than my original pick. One was a hound mix, and the other a pit bull mix. They were super friendly and sweet – both weighed maybe 40 pounds – and they were really young dogs. They were so excited and hyper we decided to take them out to a large fenced in area where we could unleash them and let them run off some of their energy.
We made it out there in record time because both dogs were pulling like a couple of locomotives. We entered the fenced in area, closed both gates behind us, and unhooked the leashes. Bam! They were off like a shot and raced around and around the pen, first one leading and then the other. We laughed watching them fly back toward us . . . right up to the second the pit bull ran head first into my right knee at full speed. I was standing sideways to him, and it felt like being hit by a 40-lb bulldozer. I crumbled and fell, thinking, “My knee is shattered.” I rolled around on the dirt for a few minutes holding the knee and telling myself what an idiot I was to let something like that happen on my first day. The lady I was with was scared to death (by the way she is probably 10 years older than me, weighs about 10 lbs., and can handle dogs three times bigger than she is).
When I finally stopped rolling, I crawled over to fence (because I wasn’t going to let this little tiny woman try to help me up). I pulled myself up and realized I could put weight on the knee, bend it, and walk with only a little pain. Then we had a big laugh, and I told her I’d accept my “F” in dog walking and move on to something else. The two tired out pooches walked like little angels back with us to the shelter. I went to the office to report my “incident” and tell them I thought I’d go hang out with the cats for a while.
Lesson: I am 67 years old. I have limitations. I can socialize the puppies and kittens. I can pull the adult cats out of their cages and give them special attention. I can learn which dogs are of the “gentle” persuasion and give them some TLC. I can fill food and water bowls and clean cages. I can help in the office. I can take my camera and get some cute shots of the adoptables for the web site. There are all kinds of things to do there that won’t require pulled muscles and knee braces. Boundaries . . . I have to accept them.
BONUSES
Ted reminded me late yesterday afternoon that there was a rocket launch from Cape Canaveral at 7:35 last night. The sky was full of stars, so we thought we’d maybe have a chance of seeing a little light down the coast when it went up (100 miles away).
The launch was delayed a few times, but close to 8 p.m. they started counting down, and Blake, Ted and I hurried up to the skywalk.
This was the best shot Ted got with his iPhone, but a few seconds earlier, it was really big and bright.
We were thrilled to know we’d be able to see launches like this from our house. What a surprise and a bonus to living here!
A LITTLE MACKINAC
A Mackinac sunset through Bruce LaPine’s rear view mirror.
Beautiful cloud reflections at the marina. (Photo: Patrick Conlon)
New snow on Soldiers Garden Trail. (Photo: Steve Humphrey)
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Yall have a great weekend, and I’ll see you back here on Sunday!
God bless.
I’ve been re-reading Joan Chittister’s wonderful book, The Gift of Years. I blazed through it quickly several months ago, picked out a few statements that seemed relevant, then quickly moved on. This time the book is touching me as though I’m personal friends with the author, and she is writing exclusively to me . I’ve highlighted so much of each page with my pink pen that basically the only words UN-highlighted are the “a’s, and’s, and the’s”.
The book is aimed at the “older” generation, and Chittister separates that group into three stages – the young old (65-74), the old old (75-84); and the oldest old (85 and older). I have to admit it’s been a long time since I’ve been called the “young” anything, so I was immediately uplifted to find myself still solidly in the young old group. The book focuses a lot on what we do with – and for – ourselves after retirement. I love this particular line: What am I when I am not what I used to do? Our society is so tied to who and what we are during our working years that it’s a big change when we are suddenly not working and can no longer identify ourselves by our careers.
Until recently I never gave that question much thought. As soon as Ted and I retired, we immediately jumped into buying a summer home on Mackinac Island and began to live two lives instead of one. For six months we were Georgians and enjoyed ri’vah life, and for six months we were summer residents of Mackinac. We filled our days in both places with volunteer work, meeting/dining/visiting with friends, exercise, and reading. We were retirees – very happy and busy ones.
Moving to Florida has been like retiring all over again – only this time I suddenly understand how many people feel when they first leave the work force. There’s a sense of “what next?” What do I do now? How do I define myself if I not only don’t have a career, but I’m also separated from everything and everyone I love in both Georgia and Michigan?
As Floridians, we find ourselves beginning to make progress. We have a beautiful house across the street from the Atlantic. We are near family, and we are making friends. We are visiting churches. Once again we are reaching out because to do otherwise is to give up the joy of what lies ahead.
Crittister says it like this: We have the joy of immunity from propriety now. Like children on a beach, we can decide whether we will wear sandals or go barefoot through life from now on. We can decide to walk gently through this last great stage of life when everything begins to come together for us, to make sense, to have new meaning. We can simply sit and watch a sunset, since we are not rushing home through traffic as the sun goes down. We can walk across the lawn in the morning dew, smell the grass and pick a dandelion, because, like the glorious rose, it has a beauty of its own, as do all things, if we will only learn to look for it. We can be happy to be sixty or seventy or eighty – to be where we’ve been, to know what we know, to have today to do even more. We can decide to smile at everyone we meet, to play with children, to talk to seniors, to ask questions of youngsters – and this time to listen to their answers. We can determine to pursue something new today, become a learner again, and feel the excitement that begins to rise in us when we do. We can decide to give ourselves to those who have no one else but us to count on for quality of life themselves. Now we have it all: opportunity, freedom, and the sense to know what those things demand of us. We have a chance to be the best self we have ever been. And we have the chance to help others do the same. We can wake up one morning and find ourselves drunk with the very thought of being alive.
As the days march on and the ripples of our lives here in Florida begin to widen, I look forward to all that is before us. On my calendar this week in big letters: FIND A PLACE TO VOLUNTEER! To be clay, soft and pliable – open to possibilities, to new beginnings. I can’t wait to see where this will lead . . . . .
God bless.
Winters here in Florida are much like winters in south Georgia. We have 2 or 3 cold, wet, cloudy/foggy days, followed by 2 or 3 warm and sunny days. The main difference is the wind – which pretty much blows constantly. THAT part reminds me of October on Mackinac Island!
So, while I’ve never liked to walk around in the rain and cold (although we do it twice a day to get Bear and Maddie out of the house – regardless of the weather), when the sun does come out, Ted and I head for the beach!
I’ve never been much on naming birds, but I’m already getting interested in the shore birds – maybe because I see them everyday, and usually I can get pretty close to them). Here’s where my readers can help out. The closest thing I can find to this little sweetie in my bird book is a Wilson’s Plover (an immature one). Anyone know for sure?
Same bird, different angle.
I’ve already fallen in love with these beauties – they’re Royal Terns. I love that they look like they have a receding hairline, but I’ve read as summer approaches, the black feathers will cover their entire foreheads.
We came upon this huge flock of gulls and terns and couldn’t help but notice the “big daddy” gull in the middle.
When Ted scattered them, we could really see how big his wing span was compared to the other birds!
As we walked further north, we spotted this gentleman standing just where the waves were coming in. I wondered what he might be doing, and Ted said, “I think he’s catching sand fleas.” Sand fleas? “Why would you want to catch a flea – sand or otherwise?” Ted found that very funny.
Well, you know me – I had to see this up close, and thank goodness the fisherman was glad to show me his catch. These are Sand Fleas!
He had a pail full of them to use as bait. See, you learn something every day!
Here’s something else I’ve learned since moving south. Every few weeks the landscaper comes through our neighborhood and cuts back the dead fronds from these palm trees. If they don’t do that, the dead and decaying fronds mat together and become nests for rats and snakes! Now that is something I’d have rather never learned . . . . s0 glad they’re making sure they keep them cut back!
I guess this makes it official. Ted and I both got our Florida’s drivers licenses the other day, and Ted got his tag. I’ve got to go back after mine because we went in Ted’s truck, and they have to visually SEE the VIN number in my vehicle to sell me a tag. Ted chose the “Panther tag” since we’ve got one in the neighborhood. I’m thinking about going with a “Save the Manatees” tag.
In keeping with my renewed interest in birds, I couldn’t help bringing home this sandpiper sculpture they’d just taken out of the box at one of my new favorite shops – Hammock Gardens. Because of the color I needed to hang it on a dark wall, so I chose the blue wall in the powder room. Love it!
A LITTLE MACKINAC
The Lady on the Hill slumbers away in the snow. (Photo: Patrick Conlon)
While we’re talking about the Grand Hotel, you might want to click below to learn about the winter construction going on there. It seems they are working on adding suites at the Cupola level (WOW!) and doing some reconfiguring of the Tea Garden. http://www.grandhotel.com/winter-construction-update Good stuff!
This is what the island looked like from above today – pretty darn icy! (Photo: Bryce Tracy)
RUBY JANE
Since moving to Florida we’ve become much closer not only to our perfect grandchildren – Jordan and Matthew – but also our granddog, Ruby (better known as Ruby Jane to her closest fans).
Jordan and Matthew – celebrating Ruby’s 2nd birthday in December.
Ruby is a Boykin Spaniel, and birds are her passion. We first met Ruby when she was a puppy and belonged to Matt’s (our son-in-law) parents, Jack and Carolyn, who live about half-way between our house and Julie and Matt’s. They purchased Ruby from a breeder in Alaska, with the express purpose of turning her into a duck hunting dog. Ruby arrived full of enough energy to power the lights in New York, LA, and Atlanta – all at once. After a year, Jack and Carolyn knew they just couldn’t keep up with this little dynamo and agreed to let Matt, Julie, Jordan and Matthew adopt her (with full visiting rights, of course).
With lots of training (Ruby has been known to literally jump up and pick a low-flying bird right out of the air), she went on her first “real” hunt a weekend or so ago.
At first, she was a little taken aback when all the guns started firing at once. She’s sitting here with John, Matt’s brother – who is a dog trainer.
The next morning John brought in his own dog, Nitschki, to mentor Ruby.
And – after watching Nitschki retrieve duck after duck . . .
. . . little Ruby brought in her first duck! This photo was featured on Instagram’s #Boykinsofig!
Matt said you could just see the light go on in her eyes when she figured out exactly what her job was. She was excited!
Way to go Ruby Jane!
Hope everyone is staying warm and dry and well! See y’all back here on Sunday!
God bless.
So intent was I to write the first post of the new blog that I forgot completely some of you might be concerned whether our favorite island would still be considered part of my life.
Let me just answer that with a resounding YES! YES! And in case you didn’t get that . . . . YES!
Mackinac Island holds me like a warm glove (I’d better make that a cold glove right now), and as long as there is breath in this body and a word left in this brain, I can’t fathom writing without the pretty constant mention of that magical place. Ted and I are already planning our summer visit (six weeks in August-September), and if I could discover a way to turn grains of beach sand into dimes, I’d put together a trip before then.
So – for the worriers – I dedicate this entire post to our favorite place (and to be truthful, I needed my own Mackinac fix right about now)!
Just when the islanders thought they’d have to trade in the snowmobiles for their bikes again, they awoke a few days ago to a wonderful white-covered fairyland!I can’t even begin to count the number of times we’ve walked down Fort Hill into town. The view of the fort blockhouse is always great from this point, but to see it against new-fallen snow is just the best! (Photo: Mackinac Wheels)
I love it when one of my readers goes to Mackinac and sends back photos! Yvonne Pitsch and her family travel to the island as often as possible, and one of Yvonne’s solo trips is usually the first week in January – this year was no exception. She shared the following three photos:
Awwww . . . . home sweet home for seven summers. MISS THIS PLACE SO MUCH!
The beautiful Grand Hotel stables . . . sitting serenely in the snow, resting up for another busy season.
Yvonne’s words: “I call this my “angry” picture. This is in the middle of the day by British Landing, and the wind was so strong it was whipping the ice and snow around creating an almost whiteout. The noise was so loud it sounded like the lake being angry and screaming at me. It was somewhat eerie being out there by myself.” Yvonne said she spent two days riding all over the island. The day she was out taking this one, it was 4 degrees!
Just in the last few days the weather has really turned, and the island is slowing icing into its winter landscape. Lake Huron has begun to “steam” – the first sign there may be an ice bridge this year.
Steam coming off the lake as the wind pushes ice along the shoreline. (Photo: Greg Main)
If this photo doesn’t make you grab your winter coat, snowboots, muffler, and gloves, nothing will! The icy freighter, American Century, makes what may be one of its last passes of the winter by the Round Island Lighthouse. (Photo: Greg Main)
Wow! A beautifully framed shot of Round Island Light by Jason Kladiva.
Photos like this one make me want to book a ticket north RIGHT NOW! Robert McGreevy said it was 5 degrees, and the wind was blowing 30 mph when he took his shot.
It had warmed up to 12 here, but the winds had increased to 34 mph. Life and work goes on as usual on Mackinac regardless of the weather, but I can’t even imagine how cold these two guys were. (Photo: Robert McGreevy)
This may have been on that same day. Swans hunkering down on the ice and hiding their heads from the wind. (Photo: Clark Bloswick)
Skiing enthusiasts like friend Orietta Barquero used that great snow (after the wind died down) to make a run out to Sugar Loaf. (Photo: Steve Humphrey)
From Clark Bloswick – The ferry service is day to day now, as the water freezes. On this day Arnold Line’s Mighty Huron had to come into harbor by going around the back of the island. Shepler’s Sacre Bleu managed to make it straight in from St. Ignace.
I know it’s a little late for a Christmas photo, but I just had to post this one of the Stuart House by Nancy May. This is where I spent a lot of hours volunteering during the summer. I love this old building and all it stands for.
I’m going to close with a fantastic video shot by Jimmy Fisher, who owns Mackinac Wheels. Jimmy filmed this on his way to work the other morning (the bike shop isn’t open now, but he still goes in to get things ready for the season ahead). I’ve posted a couple of these in the past as folks travel by snowmobile down Grand Hill, but this one is from a totally different perspective. He starts out at the cemeteries, continues through the woods down Garrison Road behind the Boy Scout Barracks, down Mission Hill into the Mission District to Main Street, and then ends at Mackinac Wheels. So beautiful! Check it out here: https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=880089545376942
Ok – tell the truth now. How many of you would LOVE to take that ride right now? Me! Me!
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We’ve had a few very unseasonably cool/cold and wet days here in Florida, but that’s ok. The rainy/cool/cold days inevitably turn into warm and sunny days after a short time, and we trade our corduroy pants for shorts again. Florida does take some getting used to, but it’s beginning to grow on me!
A few days ago . . .
And two days later.
And, just a few minutes ago . . . .
See you back here soon! God bless.
To remain as clay, to be shaped and moved
Unfinished but evolving
soft and pliable.
Not the same as yesterday
Not what will be tomorrow
Ever present to what is now
Unfolding and grounded
Unwilling to turn to stone.
Open to possibilities, to new beginnings
To be clay.
– Kathie Pugaczewski
Sixty-seven days ago Ted and I moved into our new home in Beverly Beach. Today – for the first time – I slung a beach chair over my shoulder, crossed A1A, pushed the chair firmly into the sand, and lowered myself down into it. The only sounds were the waves rushing onto and away from the shore, the call of seagulls, and the occasional Coast Guard helicopter. Looking north, then south, I could make out the forms of other people on the sand, but they were so far away they might just as well not have been there.
Over the other shoulder I’d hung a beach bag (bright yellow with imprinted white dots in varying sizes) filled with a book, a high liter pen, my camera and my iPhone (both safely zipped into a waterproof bag), and a beach towel (mostly to cover my legs if I got chilly). I settled down, pulled out my book, slid my “reader” sunglasses off my head and onto my nose, and breathed out a big sigh of contentment as I opened the book.
By page three I was already fidgeting. Did my cellphone ring? Why didn’t I bring a bottle of water? I wonder if I could get some good pictures in this light? I pulled my camera out of my bag and started down the beach.
Note to self: Find a pocket-sized book naming sea birds.
This isn’t a zoomed photo. I followed this seagull around for at least five minutes, photographing him from every available angle. He tolerated the intrusion with a great deal of patience.
No one to the north . . .
. . . or to the south.
After twenty minutes I wandered back to my beach chair and once again sat down. Putting my head back and closing my eyes, I let the roar of the ocean take over. My first random thought was this: When did I forget how to be still? After months of frenetic activity, it seems I’m going to have to practice sitting quietly and just being.
I began to think back to my twenties and thirties, when the idea of owning a house by the sea was just an unbelievable – and unachievable – dream. Never in my wildest imaginings did I believe back then it would ever happen. Vacations by the ocean – yes. Living by the ocean – impossible.
And yet – here I am. Between those years and now a lot of living occurred, and during those years I discovered a place like none I had ever imagined. Mackinac Island became my heart’s home. It always will be.
But here – now – the old dream of beach living is slowly becoming a reality in my mind. What I have to do is embrace it. I have to let the clean ocean air seep into my very soul. I have to be quiet and listen to the cries of the sea birds overhead. I have to feel with my heart the thunder of the waves against the sand and the rush and swirl as it returns out to sea. The sea is nature at its purest – tides controlled by the moon, water creatures whose intelligence we are only just now beginning to fathom, mysteries of the deep to explore that are as old as time.
A house by the sea. What will it teach me? What lessons are left to learn? What gifts will the sand and water offer up?
A house by the sea. Amazing.
To Be Clay 