Saturday was one of those rare days that end up standing out in memory as special. Not that anything particularly different was happening on this specific Saturday. I guess it was just an accumulation of little things and the sudden, quiet realization that it was a beautiful day, and I was here to enjoy it.
For the six weeks previous, I’d been on the road: two weeks in a cottage perched on the ocean’s edge in Maine, two weeks on an island in a lake in New Hampshire, two weeks visiting my kids and friends. But now I was home again. Home in my little bungalow by the sea in St Augustine, Florida. I’d unpacked the car, stowed all my stuff where it belonged, gotten caught up on the laundry and the errands. And here it was: Saturday with absolutely nothing on the agenda. No where I needed to be. Nothing I needed to be doing. No one expecting anything from me.
When I woke and took Duff for his morning walk, the tide was out so we continued right on down to the beach and walked more than half way to Marineland before turning back. Considering it was a Saturday – the last Saturday before school begins again in St. John’s County – it seemed amazing that we were the only two beings on the beach – well, us and the sandpipers and terns. By the time we got home, the temps had climbed, but there was still a breeze that made the day feel just right. I gathered up the Wall Street Journal weekender edition and settled into my chair on the deck to read while I ate my delayed breakfast.
Every now and then, I’d glance up, my eye caught by the vivid blue of the ocean. I found myself sighing at the beauty of this place and this day. Now and then my phone would chime to tell me I’d gotten a message or a photo from one of my kids. A neighbor stopped to welcome me home and I chatted with him and petted his dog for a bit before he moved on. By then there were surfers out catching waves and two paragliders buzzed along the shore. But still it seemed so peaceful and perfect. And it suddenly slipped into my consciousness how very blessed I was to be living in this place, to be alive to enjoy this beautiful day. To have color and sunshine, the ocean and the breeze. Neighbors to chat with and children who sent me pictures on my phone of what was happening on this day in their lives hundreds of miles away. It was a very special day, indeed.