I've been wearing this white blouse as if it were the last shirt on earth. It smells like sunshine, sand, sea salt, farm, and sweat. I'm wondering if the approach to beat this heat is in the art of the blouse. It let's whatever air there is arrive and depart, no questions asked. It's not cotton. And it looks good with anything. You can be classy and tuck it in, or sport it at the beach. What's not to like, or daresay I, love?
The past week or so has been busy. A last minute trip to the shore on the fourth in which R and I watched three sets of fireworks by the bay. I do declare that the fourth of July is a holiday of abandon. For me, it has no tradition and seems always attached fondly to an evening spent with people I could not have predicted. RH and RH rode bike down to the shore and the four of us enjoyed an evening together out on the back deck.
But this is besides the point. The weather has led me to appreciate the current ability to spend time outside the city. I received a phone call from the farm on Monday with news that farmer Axel had his foot run over by a tractor. I took Tuesday and head down to help Stephen feed and water the poultry. Spent the day feeding, watering, setting up a station for the newest chicks, washing eggs, all with seven year old Mike. He sprayed me with the hose. Some turkeys escaped. It was hot. We drank lots of water. Some delicious open faced sandwiches with Omi and Opa, who want to take a trip to Muddy Run state park before summer's end. I'm becoming quite fond of my hours spent on the farm and it looks like I'll be spending more time there than originally thought, what with farmer Axel with his leg propped up on the couch, recovery time unknown.
Yesterday was great. The white blouse accompanied R and I on a late afternoon drive to the beach. The water was cold. perfect. we walked out until we could walk no further. a sense of abandon when you lose footing. no ground. a good kind of fear. we found a stranded horseshoe crab and wrote him a verbal letter of appreciation. An amazing creature! 445 million years old, having changed very little.
Whenever I go to the sea, I feel a sense of being at home. The air. The smells. All of it brings great thoughts to my mind. Somers point is divine. The quiet streets. The mussel sandwiches at Bay Shores II Restaurant and Marina, which i have yet to eat as I've only ever had time for breakfast. The people move slowly, folks sit at the bar and drink coffee, the waitress remembers your face and likes her job. The seagulls are noisy...there's salt on your skin.
Last night, walking from the ocean, you could only see distant lights through the fog. I forgot who I was, where I was. I wanted to go then to the library, take a long walk home, brew tea and drink it with a friend, or a lover, or a dog. You know, the things that actually matter.
PARIS
THE SEA
SHARING OUR STRANGE
The importance of consistency is becoming more clear. It doesn't matter what you choose to do, or where you choose to live, as long as you do, you stay, you see the people around you, bearded or not bearded, scruffy or refined, distant or overwhelmingly open. It may be cultural or the unfortunate opportunity of my generation, but there is a trend to travel, to change location, to change careers, to change interests, to change relationships-------I question this. There's much to be seen in the present smallness. You don't have to go looking. Sometimes, if you just sit and watch, things move about you and change you from the inside. The tides, moving in and out and about, constant yet full of movement and change. The flow of a river etching through rock, a thousand years of sameness producing beautiful work.
It may take more courage to stay then leave. It may also take even more courage to leave things you cannot change and build your own life, devoid of where your childhood could have predicted.
speaking of which, recent news makes me wonder...
(((http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128043329)))--- more on this later.
let's end on a more positive note. important things--- blouses, functional and stylish footwear, trips to the sea side, open faced sandwiches (TOMATOES)---
the ability to shake hands with the farmer who puts food on your table---even if his foot has been run over by a tractor---
.au revoir.
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