Narrative posting of yesterdays Weebly blog - Cape Diem! My journey ended today where it started. In the course of three and a half hours, I went to many places both near and far. Some were associated to my surroundings, others to my thoughts. Some may say I wasted a portion of my day. I would say I built a memory that will be forever imbedded in my thoughts. At breakfast this morning, I told Jake I was going to walk on the beach again today. I also told him I was sorry that today wasn’t a holiday and that he had to go to school. We talked about how fast and far he ran on Monday. He then added, “I’m glad I didn’t lose my stamina.” I looked at him with disbelief. He is five years old. What did he just say? I asked him again, “You’re glad you didn’t lose your what?” He responded, “I’m glad I didn’t lose my stamina.” I had the thought, I’m hopeful I don’t lose my stamina today. I wanted to walk at least ten miles. I probably should acknowledge that I borrowed my son’s sandals. He had already gone to work. We are at the beach house on North Topsail Island. I didn’t think he would mind, but I didn’t ask his permission. In the event his sandals dry before he returns, he may never know. It had not been my intent to get water from the Atlantic Ocean on them, but sometimes a day comes with surprises. It was either the water or a heavy layer of sand from the beach. I concluded the water would probably be better. This morning as I started my walk on the beach, I dropped his sandals off under the wooden landing that led to the beach. I then turned to the right and started my journey. I wanted to see what was down that direction. I walked the other direction on Monday when the General (aka – my wife), Jake and I explored the beach together. The beach was almost vacant with people. I was content to walk with the water lapping over my feet, the sound of the waves ringing in my ears and the visual awareness of everything before me. I also had the thought of how often I take the sensory acuity I am capable of experiencing for granted. Not everyone has that good fortune. I’ve done nothing to deserve the gift I have received, consequently I took the time to express gratitude to God for all that I’ve been given as I walked. A short time later there was cluster of people fishing from the beach. I opted to go around them on the right. I was surprised to see that someone had written gigantic letters in the sand. The letters were so large that I didn’t immediately comprehend was I was seeing. The letter J was followed by the letter E. I stepped way back and saw the full writing. It spelled JESUS. I took a picture with my iPhone. Hopefully I can figure out a way to add it to this posting. I wondered if the fishermen were responsible for the carefully drawn letters in the sand. Who knows? There are certainly a lot of stories in the Bible where the presence of Jesus had a direct relationship to the number of fish that were caught. As I continued walking barefooted on the wet beach, I remembered something a friend communicated in response to a recent blog. I had made reference to horse manure and he replied that his father-in-law once told him that during his childhood years he often walked barefooted and that walking through horse manure was good for your feet. My friend added that if it couldn’t be purchased at Walgreen’s, it wasn’t going on his feet. Maybe it was the fact that I was walking barefooted that prompted the memory, but I thought the father-in-law’s observation was closely akin to “I’ve got some ocean front property for sale in Kansas.” At any rate, I hoped there were benefits from walking barefooted on the beach. I didn’t plan to turn around and retrace my steps until I had walked five miles. Walking barefooted also reminded me of a story my brother once told concerning John Colter. Colter was a trapper who crossed the continent to the Pacific Ocean with Lewis and Clark. He later set out on a hunting expedition with a friend. He was captured by the Blackfoot warriors who stripped him of his clothing and explained in detail how they would kill him. At first they were going to put him up as a mark to be shot at, but the chief, desiring to have greater sport, asked Colter if he could run fast. Colter understood enough of their language to tell him that he was a poor runner, although he was one of the swiftest runners among the hunters. Then the chief took him out on the prairie a few hundred yards and turned him loose to run for his life. The plain was covered with cactus, and at every jump the bare feet of the naked man were filled with cactus thorns. Yet, Colter ran swifter than he ever ran before and headed for the Jefferson River six miles away. Miraculously he made it. I couldn’t remember the full story, so I telephoned my brother in Broken Arrow to ask for the details. He didn’t answer his phone so I left a message. He later called me and I told him I was walking barefooted on the beach and that I remembered that John Colter also walked barefooted. He laughingly said, he was also naked and running through cactus. I replied, I don’t have the cactus, but I’ve got the rest of it covered. Who knows how he may have interpreted my intent. I didn’t provide an explanation. Before my walk was over, I noticed two boys in an ocean kayak. From the distance, the two boys with paddles in their hands didn’t look very old. They were not far from the shore, but it didn’t appear that they had lifejackets. I found it disturbing. As I got closer, I saw that the boys were older than I thought. They may have been high school age or older. but I still thought caution was worth a pound of cure. Life jackets wouldn’t have been a deterrent to having fun. A wave caught the kayak and turned it over from end to end. Fortunately, both boys surfaced and they made it back to shore along with the kayak. Out of nowhere an older woman appeared. I assumed she was the boy’s mother. As I passed the trio standing next to their boat, I simply said, “It looks like you are in the midst of an adventure. The woman smiled and said, “Yes we are.” The beach was almost vacant when I started walking, but by the time I returned to the beach house, there were many people on the beach. I saw families with young children. They were busy making sandcastles or playing in the water. I momentarily remembered back to the early childhood of both of my children. Craig and Andrea are almost ten years apart in age, so early childhood is not something they shared together. Sadly, I couldn’t remember ever taking them to the beach. I momentarily felt that I did them a disservice. It would have been a great place to share an adventure. Fortunately my daughter and he husband will be here later today. Perhaps we can create a beach front memory as an extended family. All My Best! Don carpediem-lifeblog.Weebly
Posted on: Fri, 17 Oct 2014 10:19:23 +0000
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