Armchair Peregrinations

July 26, 2003

This has been such a strange, but pleasantly surprising, July. Temps mostly in the upper 80s lately instead of mid 90s. Bearable weather. Humid but not too steamy and miserable. And, lots of rain.

The other day I found myself even able to sit during lunch hour in the garden on the college campus, delighting in a nice breeze, sitting under my favorite pecan tree, looking at birds and clouds as I took a break from work. Normally about this time of summer, that would be unthinkable. I enjoyed it. I compared the sensations of being there in mid summer with those of fall or spring, subconsciously, and I realized again how important to me the passing and changing of the seasons are. This journal, I remind myself again, is subtted, "A Journey Through All the Seasons of Life." An appropriate title on many levels.

July 22, 2003

The other afternoon, late, I was debating whether to go out to the beach, but opted instead to stay home. Out my window I was transfixed by the most subtly beautiful sunset -- pink and rose hues in clouds that were delicately composed to capture and encapsulate the light of the setting sun and reveal one of Nature's most prized splendors in a most delightul way. It all reminded me of those 19th century landscapes with the perfect depictions of just such sunsets in the Adirondack Mountains.

The scene out my window was so pleasant to observe, the light and colors so clear and well defined, that I didn't want it to end. Slowly it began to fade away. I kept looking up into the sky to watch the clouds. What a wondrous thing to behold -- that sunset out my window, high up in back of the oak trees.

July 6, 2003

It was a near perfect summer night at the beach this evening. Drove my mother out to my brother's to have fresh seafood we had just bought and then spent some time out on the beach, I relaxing in my chair with a book, N__ and my mother taking a short walk. She said she was tired, but it did her good to get out on the beach.

A large group nearby was playing volleyball. Others walked by on their way up or down the beach, the seabreeze was perfection. A beautiful sunset. Oh, my... this is what I look forward to each year. Coming out almost every day after work, late, past 7 pm. I let the sound of the waves and the cool breezes off the ocean melt away cares and bring me to the state of deep relaxation that I relish. No other place allows me to enter such a state of mindfulness. Every day I want to go there.

July 3, 2003

It's really summertime today. Hot, white puffy clouds on a deep down early July day, the day before the Fourth of July. I won't be doing much on the Fourth. Avoiding the crowds and traffic.

I went to the grocery story a little while ago thinking to get some hot dogs, buns, and lemonade to kind of celebrate the holiday in some fashion, but the parking lot was full. I can wait to get those items.

I'm home from work, relaxing. It's very nice with the air-conditioning, and when I go out briefly, it's a relief to come back in.

The leaves on the oak tree outside the window sway languidly in a warm breeze. It will be great to head for the beach later this afternoon and take in the seabreezes as sunset approaches over the marsh to the rear of where I will be. The beach is crowed with summer vacationers now, but that's okay. Folly is no Myrtle Beach, and I always think of my summer vacations when I am out there this time of year. And to realize I can go there any day of the year. I'm very fortunate.

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