Whether you are a fellow fiber artist, enthusiast or just an admirer, walk along and talk with me on my journey.
Monday, March 24, 2014
I've been thinking about this place on this sunny, but very chilly morning in March. Here I sit in my warm socks, jeans and hoodie. There-I could very well be wearing the same thing. Simply being near the water, with the sand below my feet is soothing in ways I can hardly explain. The sound and the smell of the water give me a feeling of freedom I didn't know I was lacking. I'm transported somewhere blissful. It's like a glass of wine or massage that hits all the right reflexology points. My eyes relax and I feel a smile come across my lips. I can spend hours, no-days sitting or strolling, picking up seashells I swear will become something lovely when I get home.
Nighttime on the cape evokes the same feelings. It's time for family, a
fire and a glass of 2 of good wine. The crabs come out and run with
wild abandon to and from the water's edge. They make me laugh. My son
chases them on his hands and feet-this makes me laugh even harder. He
is filled with the same abandon as those little crabs. It's good to be twelve. I'm glad I get to witness his twelve-ness in this beautiful place or...at all.
Even a stormy, chilly day at the beach is a good day. It awakens the artist and dreamer in me.
Now, I can go back to my weaving and daydream some more about waves, beaches and the delightful, ever-changing skies above them.