Thursday, December 27, 2007
gloria in florida
There are more posts about Uganda, Change the Truth, photography and family to come. For now let me tell you about early morning on Captiva Island. (Please indulge me while I pretend to be poetic. I think it has something to do with the sea air.)
The fog lays low and props itself up on the very tops of the palm trees. The ocean is dark and brooding, and the line where it meets the sky is mysterious to say the least. It’s a place where the sea quietly and barely edges up against the sky… sort of like an untold secret. It’s place I can’t help staring into.
Early risers are stooped along the brink of the sea. They are shell gatherers, clusters of them - their silhouettes dark and still against the rising sun. They only reach out now and then for the perfect gem to add to their collections.
There is an Osprey perched high above, surveying the scene and Great Egrets standing proudly and gracefully along the shoreline.
There’s a dolphin bobbing along and pelicans soaring toward the water to swoop on their prey. They dive fiercely, crashing against the surface of the water, then rise up with fish dangling from their bills.
There are no sounds except the constant lapping of the waves at our feet.
By the time Eddie and I finish our walk along the beach, the fog has burned off. That place where the sea and sky meet is now a bold swath. There are little kids running about, sunbathers staking out their beach chairs and umbrellas. Sounds of conversations, kids laughing, wave runners and motorboats have punctured the silence.
When I was younger, yes, I admit, I would have been bummed to wake up to fog and drizzle and a chill in the air on my first morning of a beach vacation. I would have been missing out on precious sun-tanning time, after all!
Now, I prefer the low lying fog, the quiet rhythms of the early morning sea and the comforting sound that is the breathing of my long time friend and lover as he walks along the beach next to me.