The seizure on Monday night still has me a little shaky – and that is on top of the lingering side effects of the Suboxone withdrawal. As a result I am moving slow right now, but still moving forward.
Somebody was kind enough to help me order a heavy bag and some other equipment to help with the backyard dojo I am putting together under the honking huge pecan tree. Everything should be at the store on Monday – and that happens to be my birthday. Dear Old Dad is going to drive me to Assateague Island that morning. It should be a nice day.
The Daily Frail will return to production soon. Work continues on my current book in progress. Careful planning is underway for our YouTube replacement series . . .oops! That last part was supposed to be a secret!
Going back to Brick Kiln with a clear head was . . . sweet. I picked up a bag of bread from the Dollar store and the seagulls and blackbirds were happy to pose for my camera.
Eventually I stopped taking pictures and sat on the dock in the cold wind. I watched the wind move over the water. The marsh grass over on Jane Island waved in its own rhythm while work boats plowed through the water on their way to the bounty of Tangier Sound.
I have so many memories, happy and sad, of the times I brought Amy here. Sometimes we danced with the seagulls, other times we just held each other in my ’89 Mercury. She once angrily said the all of the seagulls here knew me – and I still don’t understand how that was a bad thing.
As I walked back down the dock I saw a woman throw her McDonald’s trash out of her car window. I calmly picked it all up, walked up to the car and said to her, “Hello! I think you dropped this.”
She turned to say something harsh, saw how big I was and calmly accepted the wad of trash.
Nice to know I still look like I belong on the Brute Squad.
I picked up some more trash along the beach before I got in the car for the drive home. As soon as the weather warms up a bit I will be walking here every day. Taking pictures with my camera and my heart.
If this is only a week after getting off that poison, I can’t wait until I start getting myself back in shape!
This morning I woke up well before sunrise. I put on the heavy walking boots I have not been able to wear for years and put on my pea coat. I got my camera and stowed one extra lens in my coat pocket. I fed Pooka, quietly slipped out the front door into the cold darkness before dawn to watch the sun rise at Jenkins Creek.
Jenkins Creek is a special place to me for reasons I will not share. I don’t take many people there. Nowadays it is not what it was when I first came to Crisfield, but I still love it there.
I watched the sun rise. I took a few pictures. I pondered on some big decisions. As I turned back towards home a great blue heron I had not seen rose up from the marsh grass in front of me – so close I could feel the air from the beating of its wings. I threw up my hands and danced for joy on the lonely street.
Driving home I started laughing with joy. At the end of a dark grueling journey I am finally coming back to my old self. Back to visiting herons and watching the beginning and the end of each day with joy. Alive! Alive! Alive!