Big news this week….Punxsutawney Phil (PP) didn’t see his shadow, portending that we’d have an early Spring. No one really takes him seriously though, since in the 138 years folks have been paying attention to him on February 2 each year, he’s only been right 39% of the time.
I don’t give a darn what PP says about Spring. Here in southwest Florida, any really nice day any time of the year is a good day to go to the beach, even if the calendar still says it’s winter.
It hasn’t been a particularly nice winter here so far. One day last week it was finally 84 degrees, so I went to the beach in Naples for an hour or so. I had that little bit of time between a doctor appointment there and when my sister Lisa got off work and I could make my way over to her house. This week we have guests so on the nicest day of the week (which just happened to be Groundhog Day with only a high of 72 degrees), we loaded up the chairs, a cooler and other normal beach stuff to spend some time there. It really was a beautiful, bright sunshiny day. We knew it’d be a little cool, but at the beach, that doesn’t matter much if you don’t plan to go in the water. We had no such plans.
We drove over the toll bridge to Boca Grande and made our way to the 9th Street beach access road. I especially like that spot because it’s almost never crowded, and the beach is as perfect as it gets around here. We hauled the stuff the short distance to the water and set up the chairs.
I so often forget when I haven’t been to the beach in a while, how that setting refreshes my spirit and renews my psyche. I am invigorated the moment I get down to the sand at the water’s edge, kick off my shoes, flop down into the low chair to just sit and BE in paradise. For me, being at the beach is a spiritual experience…pure ecstasy.
Everyone else I came to the beach with almost immediately set out on a walk. So many people feel, I think, that they need to be constantly DOING something. My sister-in-law, Kristine, walks every chance she gets. And walking on the beach allows her to indulge another favorite pastime, shelling. Her husband went with her. Randy, too, came down to the beach with us, but he too can’t just sit and enjoy being there. He took off for a walk down the sand with his sister and brother-in-law. All three of them were bundled up like it was winter out.
In fact, the wind was blowing pretty hard and the surf was crashing in seeming solidarity with the wind. It was noisy and not particularly peaceful on the beach that day. But the sky was blue with only a few wispy white clouds. The sun was shining mightily, warming up the white sand, and anyone (me) sitting in one place on a low beach chair. There were a few boats in the distance but no brave swimmers in the water. In fact, there were few people who even ventured to the beach that day. Often, on days like that, I imagine that a lot of the beauty exists just for me.
It may be a bit misleading to say that I do nothing at the beach. I’m simply not moving physically. But my mind often drifts into prayer, thanking God that I live in a place that is so good for my soul. That thankfulness morphs into gratitude for all the wonderful things I have, and I can forget, for a time, how our culture bombards us endlessly with things we don’t have. The ebb and flow of the surf promotes a meditational state in many ways, and I take full advantage of the opportunity that presents.
I love the feel of sand between my toes and the warmth of the sun on my face. The blues and greens of the water, crashing onto the tan sand in an explosion of white foam, is one of the most calming and pleasant visualizations of peace I know. Soaking up all that natural Vitamin D from sunlight is astonishingly healthy. And more often than not, being in the sun and wind for the time I spend at the beach improves the quality of my sleep.
Even when the beach is crowded, people there are happy and in a good, playful mood. Everything seems right with the world at the beach on a gorgeous day. For an extra special experience, we’ll stay for sunset. Not every day we choose to do that treats us to the spectacular colors that remind us that God is an artist without compare, but we luck out enough that makes sunset at the beach one of the most special things to share with those you love. The beauty lingers in the mind’s eye.
During the past year when I was in the throes of the cancer surgery and its aftermath (which seemed to drag on forever), I’d mentally go to the beach to calm any anxiety that crept in while I was in a doctor’s office or the hospital. That mental exercise, removing myself to the beach, worked as a balm to my mind every single time. And the ability to do that reminds me of the blessings I have in this stage of my life. Living near the beach has truly been a gift.
Groundhog Day only rolls around once a year. Unlike Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog Day, I wouldn’t mind at all getting caught in a time loop that brings me to the beach day after day after day. The peace and tranquility of spending time at the beach as often as I want is marvelous. It never gets old, and I don’t care whether PP (or a random palm tree) has a shadow or not.
I am blessed every single day, and every day is a blessing.
P.S. I’ve always thought I wouldn’t be able to write fiction because I’m not creative enough to make up stories. But I’m going to find out. I had an idea for a book, or maybe a series of books. Stay tuned to see if I have the ability and the discipline.
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