It is that time of year when we pack up the back of our car with all those things we think we will need between now and April and head for southern Florida. Things like shoes we didn’t leave there, some clothes I enjoy wearing, fabric for two quilting projects that I have started (no I haven’t found a good fabric store where we reside for the winter), a box of yarn to make hats to bring back in November to donate to the homeless shelter (and another plastic box with all my knitting needles, etc), camera gear, and some boxes that JB has packed up. And of course all our electronics and their respective charging cords.
Our southern winter life and our northern summer life are so different that there isn’t much in either place to trigger memories of what life is like in the other. When I am in one place I seldom think of the other, so I experienced a delightful surprise when I opened this file of photos of the orchids I have attached to the trees around our condo. If I remember right I have eight or ten, some blooming in fall and some in spring. This orchid is a winter/spring bloomer so I’m now excited to see the fall bloomers that will be waiting for me.
Thanks, Cee, for inspiring me to post these posies and do a little writing. I’ve been experiencing a blogging block lately.
I went to the beach this morning, for the first time since flying back to Florida. Prior to today the sun’s rays were blocked by clouds; there wasn’t good morning sun to illuminate the sky and water, the sand and shells, palms and grasses, birds and people. Of course my eyes see because of illumination, but my hearing also directs my sight. As I was walking down the path towards the beach I heard the crash of breaking waves. How surprised I was to see the gentle curves of blue water edged with white foam, sparkling in the sun’s illumination.
There were waves, not big ones, but they broke close to the water’s edge. Sometimes the shape of the shore caused the water to churn, with many surfaces and curves to catch the sun’s illumination. I sat and watched and waited as wave after wave broke, each catching the sun in a different way. I also scanned the horizon, some sky with clouds other areas clear. The water was different colors as I looked from south to north, different areas picking up the reflections and illumination from different parts of the sky.
How wonderful to have the time and eyes and heart to see how the sun illuminates all that is around us. There is an ever-changing illumination that leads to ever-changing beauty. As I repeatedly look at the familiar, I see unfamiliar beauty. I see it over and over for the very first time.
You can see other interpretations of the travel theme, illuminated by visiting Ailsa: