It was so beautiful this morning and after we'd had our breakfast and I'd gone over to the neighbors' to help pull a tiny line that had fed lidocaine into a shoulder after surgery, Mr. Moon and I tried to decide what we should do today. I really do think he's had a sort of flu, perhaps a lighter version due to the flu shot he got, but he's still not feeling great. He was in his chair with Maurice snugged all up in his lap, head down in her paws, staying warm and he had been dozing, on and off. I felt lazy too and could easily have sat on the couch and watched TV and crocheted but it really was so blue-skied out, clear and cool. So we decided to drive down to the St. Mark's wildlife refuge which is a state park of over 70,000 acres of protected land with miles of trails, and ponds and tidal pools and alligators and other critters and many, many birds.
We got ourselves ready and drove there, down the back road that leads to the Wacissa, and to the coast. By the time we got to the refuge, the sky had grown clouded over and the colors all seemed to be gray, green, and brown.
Sunday colors somehow.
We parked and got out near the lighthouse which looks like this.
Can you see the actual lighthouse at the top right?
We walked down the pathway there, a slender peninsula of land bordered by water and trees. I took that top picture when we were walking back, the palm trees (there are so many) reflected in the little lake. Or pond. I don't know. Despite the wet, chilly weather and the gloom, there were many people out taking pictures and just strolling about. A young family with a dog, elderly people with walkers, youthful olderly people with backpacks and wearing gear that would be appropriate for the Appalachian Trail.
There were plenty of water birds. Herons and egrets, ducks galore. These seagulls and penguins were hanging out on old dock skeleton.
I'd love to say it was all thrilling and amazing but honestly, it was just Florida on a winter day. We did appreciate it though. I suppose it was just too...Sunday.
And then we drove home because I had sourdough rising and needed to punch it down and let it take its second rise and it was all okay. We enjoyed being together, doing something, chatting about this and that.
We got home and I punched down my bread and gave it a quick kneading, set it to rise and picked greens for our salad tonight. I checked Facebook and found out about Kobe Bryant's death which is tragic enough but his beautiful daughter died too as well as a few other people.
Life is so incredibly tenuous, isn't it?
Lily got a tattoo after a friend of hers died years ago that says, "We don't always have tomorrow," and that's about as true a thing as I can imagine. We all know this but we don't live like we know it. I suppose that only the true saints and enlightened among us really remember this fact daily. Know it in their souls.
I think the last time I'd been to St. Marks was when we went to sprinkle my friend Lynn's ashes. Or, in my case, fling them to the wind. This may not be true but that day is one of the things I was thinking about when we were there today.
"Fly free!" I had said when I threw those unrecognizable flecks and fragments of one of my oldest friends. And I meant that with all my heart. She'd struggled and suffered for so long from the rare neurological illness which slowly and methodically take everything away from her that makes us living beings, saving release for way too long like a cat cruelly toying with a lizard unto death.
My dancing friend could finally dance free again.
And as we walked today down that same pathway where her ashes ended up on land and in the brackish water, I thought of all of that and how I could not feel one part of her spirit there.
Her spirit is in my heart and in the hearts of others who loved her.
And so it is.
It's raining now, a gentle drizzle. It's time to go heat the oven for the bread and make the rest of the supper.
I hope all of you have survived this Sunday with your hearts intact. Rain and tears can help wash us into healing and comfort. I do believe that.