I'm sitting on a Key West fishing boat, surrounded by friends and my family. The Florida sun is blazing down, changing my near-stark-white Polish/English skin a dusky shade of pink, while the spray from the sea cools my shoulder.
I tilt my head back, close my eyes and listen to the sound of the engine, a low roar, as it propels us to the next spot of calm. I hear my child laugh and open my eyes to see her face holding a wide, tall grin that is pure joy itself.
My daughter reaches out to point at the dolphins that are swimming alongside us. While I'd expect that visage to make my heart burst out of my chest, it doesn't. Instead, it settles quietly and contentedly as I allow myself to be fully immersed in this beautiful, golden moment.
And I think, as I'm here, that this is it. This is paradise. No palm trees or sunsets needed. Just sunshine, laughter and loved ones.
Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
And The Thunder Rolled...
I'm sitting here, in my quiet little cozy corner of the house. (Cozy being a euphemism for hot and small, but whatever. Glass half full, and all that.)
As I write this, the RainPocalypse has descended upon my neighborhood. Thunder roars as it beckons the rain to slash mightily through the tree lines and across windshields...and here I sit. Safe. Warm. Excited.
I love storms. Always have. There's a cleansing quality about them that can't be replicated by any shower you can ever take. Perhaps it's the unpredictability or lack of control, but storms, they are magical. As the RainPocalypse continues, I can't help but think about what storms meant to me when I was younger.
They were nights snuggled on the couch with my parents, who rarely even spoke to each other, let alone snuggle on a couch. They were candle-lit walks to the kitchen for snacks because our power always (ALWAYS) went out during a thunderstorm. They were boardgames played by lantern light because OH MY GOD, the Nintendo was out.
It was thrilling and bonding, at the same time. It was extraordinary to see the lightning spider like broken glass above the lake.
It was during a storm that I found my first true love. We sat on a dock in the rain for hours and talked of everything and nothing. We've since lost touch, but I will forever have the memory of that storm tattooed on my heart.
So, as this storm rolls over our house, I'm taken back to nights where life was simpler, safety was a given, and love was earnest and true.
It's amazing how a little water, noise and electricity can do that.
As I write this, the RainPocalypse has descended upon my neighborhood. Thunder roars as it beckons the rain to slash mightily through the tree lines and across windshields...and here I sit. Safe. Warm. Excited.
I love storms. Always have. There's a cleansing quality about them that can't be replicated by any shower you can ever take. Perhaps it's the unpredictability or lack of control, but storms, they are magical. As the RainPocalypse continues, I can't help but think about what storms meant to me when I was younger.
They were nights snuggled on the couch with my parents, who rarely even spoke to each other, let alone snuggle on a couch. They were candle-lit walks to the kitchen for snacks because our power always (ALWAYS) went out during a thunderstorm. They were boardgames played by lantern light because OH MY GOD, the Nintendo was out.
It was thrilling and bonding, at the same time. It was extraordinary to see the lightning spider like broken glass above the lake.
It was during a storm that I found my first true love. We sat on a dock in the rain for hours and talked of everything and nothing. We've since lost touch, but I will forever have the memory of that storm tattooed on my heart.
So, as this storm rolls over our house, I'm taken back to nights where life was simpler, safety was a given, and love was earnest and true.
It's amazing how a little water, noise and electricity can do that.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Corner of Sunshine
We live in Florida- the land of eternal sunshine, as it were. People move here specifically for that reason, though, I confess: I miss the change of weather and the cold. This is not a topic you speak of amongst true Floridians- when the thermometer reaches 50 degrees, people are scrambling for parkas and wool-lined this and that. True Floridians think you are crazy for wanting to go anywhere other than the Eternal Sunshine of the Sand-Filled Mind.
But me, I miss seasons. I miss cold weather and bundling up and the bedamned Sisyphean snowsuit; because "I don't have to pee!" turns into "Mom...? I kinda hafta...".
That said, we're in the middle of a cold snap here in Florida. (Yes, I consider 40 degrees cold, and so do you. Stop being such a showoff.) Apparently, when constructing this house a century ago, no one had the foresight to think of modern inventions--like sub-flooring or double-paned windows.
My office sits in one of the rooms we've been meaning to renovate, but haven't gotten around to. All to say, it's drafty and cluttered and wonderful. Every wall, save one , is filled with single-paned windows that let the sunshine and the drafts pour in, in equal measure. I have my sweater on, a cup of steaming hot tea on the desk, and a beautiful vista of ridiculously dressed neighbors walking by to entertain me. I swear, one woman just walked by with fur lining around her head, and her dog(!) had on a full jacket.
In the summer, I have to close the curtains, place the air conditioning on 70 and pray I don't die of heatstroke while working. It gets lonely working in here in the summer. My view of the neighborhood gets obscured in favor of not risking death via sun-stroke.
But now...in the winter, what we have of it down here, I get to enjoy the awesomeness of sunshine that doesn't blind and isn't suffocatingly humid, all from my little corner of the house. My escape that I've taken over, like kudzu over a building; slowly, almost imperceptibly, but always moving forward towards my goal of a sanctuary I could call my own.
But me, I miss seasons. I miss cold weather and bundling up and the bedamned Sisyphean snowsuit; because "I don't have to pee!" turns into "Mom...? I kinda hafta...".
That said, we're in the middle of a cold snap here in Florida. (Yes, I consider 40 degrees cold, and so do you. Stop being such a showoff.) Apparently, when constructing this house a century ago, no one had the foresight to think of modern inventions--like sub-flooring or double-paned windows.
My office sits in one of the rooms we've been meaning to renovate, but haven't gotten around to. All to say, it's drafty and cluttered and wonderful. Every wall, save one , is filled with single-paned windows that let the sunshine and the drafts pour in, in equal measure. I have my sweater on, a cup of steaming hot tea on the desk, and a beautiful vista of ridiculously dressed neighbors walking by to entertain me. I swear, one woman just walked by with fur lining around her head, and her dog(!) had on a full jacket.
In the summer, I have to close the curtains, place the air conditioning on 70 and pray I don't die of heatstroke while working. It gets lonely working in here in the summer. My view of the neighborhood gets obscured in favor of not risking death via sun-stroke.
But now...in the winter, what we have of it down here, I get to enjoy the awesomeness of sunshine that doesn't blind and isn't suffocatingly humid, all from my little corner of the house. My escape that I've taken over, like kudzu over a building; slowly, almost imperceptibly, but always moving forward towards my goal of a sanctuary I could call my own.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)