meanwhile

Well, I moved.

Meanwhile, the blog has been rather quiet. Many thanks to you who have called, emailed, and written letters since I've last posted here. I am still alive (and better yet, so are my new roommates, even though I cooked them a couple of dinners). I am missing my family and learning to live in a new state and be part of a new church, and finding many small joys along the way.

Meanwhile, I've taken a family vacation to the well-beloved place I was in this time last year. I'm writing from a tiny small-town library while Tropical Storm Alberto whimpers its last bit of wind and rain outside. The wind has tossed the ocean into vast wave-flecked grayness, except for right at the shore, where the waves are green as they curl and crash.

I've brought Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea, and I enjoyed this bit from her first chapter:

The beach is not the place to work; to read, write, or think. I should have remembered that from other years. Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully, one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists, and good intentions. The books remain unread, the pencils break their points, and the pads rest smooth and unblemished as the cloudless sky. No reading, no writing, no thoughts even--at least, not at first.... Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. (Pantheon Books, NY, 1975, pp. 9-10)

Farewell until next time. I'm back to the seaside and the wind...