so i spent a part of last evening and this morning walking on the north end of the beach. the family of a dear friend of mine owns a small cottage (aka the Little House) on 81st and Atlantic. it’s the kind of place i dream of stowing away in for a long winter and emerging in the summer with an epic manuscript, a life’s work kind of masterpiece that will be discussed long after i have passed on from this life. either that or i would go completely mad and be that lady who pushes a cart of empty soda cans and rummages through trash cans asking them questions about the meaning of life. asking the trash cans that is.
anyway, my 35th birthday is quickly approaching and i have been feeling quite introspective and reflective lately. getting reacquainted with long lost souls from various times in my life on facebook has of course enhanced this general feeling of nostalgia (bordering ad nauseum maybe), and other recent events in my life have certainly pressed me for answers to what i have done or not done, and where i am going or not going right now.
i cant say i had any revelations or anything today, but i will say that the ocean is quite possibly the best place for this. i used to think it was the mountains – and they still are a close second. but something about the waves crashing in and causing all this energy and chaos and power, and then dying down to nothing but foam on the sand, reminded me how life comes in spurts. i watched some surfers just resting on their boards in the water, waiting for the next ride. i watched a little boy run up to the water and scream and laugh and run away when the wave came closer. i thought about how the clouds came in and then moved on their merry way. everything changes. everything passes. everything leaves a mark. there is a time for it all. i’m watching the horizon, but loving the sand under my feet. peace is in the balance, as always.
ps. to OC, wish you were there – missed ya. but i was wondering if you bash your head on the door to the porch??? :p