We came down to Florida for a few weeks’ respite before the madness of the holiday season. Since we arrived, we’ve done little of consequence. And that’s the way it was suppose to be.
No Rotary meetings…no social events…nothing for which we must prepare or cook or copy.
It was several days before we made our way to the ocean. It beckons as you drive down A1A. It is sometimes seen, sometimes heard. You’re always aware of it, reminded by the surfboard toting young men crossing the road, the families walking, laden with beach stuff, the turtle protectors with their lighted helmets. We enjoyed our first view of the ocean. It was about 8 p.m. and the entire beach was covered with the incoming tide. Very different from the sandy beach spotted with swimmer and sun worshippers that clog the space during the day.
The next time we planned to walk the beach, it rained. The next, we got home late from shopping. Then our vigorous session at the gym left no energy for beach walking. Suddenly it was time to leave and we had only been to the ocean once.
I feel guilty. Like we’ve broken some law of nature. The only saving grace – Next time we come down, the ocean will still be there, proud and awesome, awaiting and welcoming our visit.
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