Just hanging in a beach chair sipping coffee listening to the surf pound closer and closer as the tide cones in. Folks with binoculars trained seaward, hoping for a glimpse of a whale.
Since the T@B is always an ice-breaker..
Met a guy who’s on the last day if a year-long camping trip. YEAR LONG. He and his wife have a pick-up camper, and rarely pays for sites. Rented his house out for a year. Started in Alaska (from near here), out east, Florida for 2 months in winter, then back. Hopes to get word soon about a caretaker position at a ghost town in Idaho (just like “the Shining”, but without the big hotel. His wife’s a writer, and his name’s Jack. Bartok, anyone?
Drizzling, but stoking a campfire from leftover wood from the previous campers. Can see our breath when we talk, but doesn’t seem cold.
Another 1/2-timer camper came by. Loves the T@B. Camps in a giant RV. Winters in Arizona. Warns me not to leave my generator out at night. Strange cars drive thru at night, looking for stuff to steal.
And then there’s the surf. I have no cell signal, no Internet, no shore power, no Starbucks, no TV (no Mad Men), and I can’t stand up straight in this trailer.
But I am giddy with happiness and completely content.
Sure, I miss Glenn, and the bass (a little), and my friends and colleagues, and driving a car without an 1,800lb weight behind it. But there’s really something to be said for being alone with your thoughts, and nature, and its pace. No schedule.
I’ll snap back to my busy over-scheduled life soon enough (and be glad for the work). But for now – there’s no place I’d rather be. No place at all.