R2 & Tommy Bahama - October 28, 2021

Today, Day 26 and we have our first cloudy and rainy day. Thunderstorms are predicted throughout the day and I’m just in awe that it took 25 days to arrive. We’ve been truly blessed by this beautiful weather. I don’t remember a time while living in New England that there were 25 consecutive days of warmth and sun. When I woke this morning before 7:00, my first thought was, “No need to open the blackout curtains yet. It’s supposed to rain today so the sunrise will not be good.” Was I ever wrong on that. There was a deep orange strip of color along the horizon so vibrant that it make me gasp (another word). I saw a few pet owners walking their dogs and wondered if they ever tired of these amazing morning skies or is it just a given that every morning sunrise will be spectacular?

I’m not sure why, but days like this give me a pass to linger longer over coffee in my lounge clothes and to procrastinate on tackling items on my “to do” list. Clouds and rain invite me to read, to write and give me permission to slack off. Not that I ever truly slack off. Which is why these days are crucial for me. On sunny days the beach calls me to “C’mon down!” and I do not have the willpower to say no. The clouds gently whisper in my ears to take it slow, to take deeper breaths, calm my racing heart and to rest in God’s embrace. I like to think of it as “busy doing nothing.” Nothing can be more important than something.

Some of my beach time has come close to this. I usually go down to the beach after 2 when the sun is not so hot and the breezes pick up a bit. I strap my Tommy Bahama striped chair on my back and take the short walk to the boardwalk that takes me over the dunes and sea oats to the sand. A comment on the Tommy Bahama chair – best beach chair ever! It has backpack type straps or a carry handle if you don’t want to put it on your back. There are two large pouches, one insulated for a drink or food! On the side near the adjustable arms is a place for my cell phone and a water bottle. If I sound effusive about this chair, it’s probably because the last time I purchased a beach chair was 1980.

Back to my time on the beach. Each day I brought a book with me to read. And each day, I never opened it. When I arrive mid-afternoon, I am wondering how long I will be able to stay there without something to do like read. Once I sit down I become mesmerized by the curling and crashing surf and the sea birds that glide above. The continuous motion of the waves lull me into calm where thoughts that enter my mind slowly move on through and exit with little fanfare. The sand is compact and flat here, mostly at low tide and a perfect walking beach. Although my feet don’t allow me to walk much, I can take short strolls. I use the music on my phone to help me not push myself to walk too far as if I had a choice, I would walk and walk and walk. My rule of thumb is two songs one way and two songs back. After sitting for a bit, I can do it again. You may not think there’s a lot else to do but I have found it impossible not to look at the thousands of shells that are just sitting there in the sun with their perfect shapes and colors. This is a time-consuming activity and one that seems to hold my interest on a daily basis.

There is hardly anyone on this stretch of coast, but I am getting to know a few of the local “beach dogs,” the “Eddie look alike dog from Frazier” named R2, my favorite. The minute his feet touch the beach he runs like the wind, in the water, out of the water, he races down the shoreline with seemingly little concern for his dad who brought him down. When he gets really excited, he jumps like a goat would, popping up and down on his little legs in the water. He could entertain me all day. Before I know it, it is 5pm and I am surprised the time has passed. The feeling I usually have at the beach of “I’ll just stay a little longer and soak it up” is silenced because I know I will be back tomorrow and the day after and for about 60 more days after this. No need to worry that my time to enjoy it is directed by a calendar day or week. This must be what it feels like to live the beach life. I’ve always wanted to know.

Stop measuring days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by degree of presence. -Alan Watts

As I write, the winds have gotten fierce and the rain is spattering against the window panes and pounding on the floor boards of the deck outside. The white foam is a start contrast to the slate gray sea and the dark sky has blurred the horizon so I can no longer see it’s line.

It’s still a sight to see and I am struck by the way the ocean still has the power to compel me to watch it, even in the nastiest of weather. I never watch a rainstorm at home.