Today’s headlines are doin nothin but causin fear and chaos over disaster and death. A hell-broth of fire storms from coast to coast and if you are like me, you are feeling staggering grief, little beyond grief.
“Trump Again Refuses to Commit to Accepting Election Results” (New York Times).
“Trump Renews Mail Vote Attacks, Again Questions Reliability of Ballots” (Wall Street Journal).
“Florida Supreme Court rules against Parkland families” (FOX News).
“Breonna Taylor shooting: A 190-plus-day timeline shows how her death changed Louisville” (Courier Journal).
“Missouri’s governor has refused to mandate masks. Now he’s tested positive for the coronavirus” (Washington Post).
“California Fire Map & Tracker” (San Fransisco Chronicle).
Thankfully there is an outdoors, away from most of this craziness, away to blue sky and open space. And here one can retreat to a place which acts as a reminder of the before days.
The following post was first published in 2014. As I am still in summer daydream mode, but no where near an ocean, those two weeks on Fire Island seems like heaven to me, flashing up in dusty memory…
Two weeks living on the ocean’s edge, the only constants in my day was the sound of pounding surf and sand on my feet, a morning swim and bike ride to get milk or meet the ferry as more family arrived, filling the wagon with luggage and boxes of food, a walk along the shore, beach volleyball, afternoons riding the waves, beach yoga, shucking corn, beach dance music, eating peaches, beach runs, ice cream, laughing, moonlit swims, and letting the clock hands fade for a brief time-less span. Our only agenda, unwind and restore.
Still a summer sky, a true blue blue overhead but my days now start with an alarm ringing and me dragging toward that brief yoga mat and then work work work although the afternoons are still that sky and that sunshine and I melt back to July when I called all the shots from dawn to dusk.
Now sneakers on by four and out the door across the field and around the bend to nothing but corn growing toward the horizon and me feeling free and light. Can you beat that?
I’d say I’m one of the lucky ones. I promise to start thinking about blogging again, writing again, scheduling time for that, soon… Until then, happy late August days, for now, go run it, xxoo