Returning to Florida six weeks after moving was not in the original plan. However, here I am, enjoying central air-conditioning, my parents’ hospitality, and their garbage grinder. Nearly fell to my knees in glee while on a brief errand to the local Publix – so many choices! Such wide aisles! Such friendly service!
But it feels odd to be riding around in a car. I notice that, despite having twice the space our apartment does, my folks and I spend most of our time in the den. And with the usual Florida dog days, our activities are limited. It’s either blistering hot or pouring…. (Not much change there – the entire East Coast has been broiling this year.)
Our trip to the beach, I spent most of the time happily scanning the distant horizon, enjoying the wide-open sky and sea. A glossy, glassy satin sea barely undulated to the shore. Terns, gulls, and sandpipers chatter to themselves and each other while waiting for the throngs of tourists with their coolers to appear. Sand like powdered sugar sifted between my toes as I wandered to the waterline, my daughter calling to me to “come shell shopping!”
An hour later, dripping sweat, feeling as if my shoulders and back had been caramelized by the sun, we left, trudging past umbrellas and pails and coolers and chairs.
Back at home, cool sheet lightly protecting me from the fan’s constant breeze, I slip into sleep, drowsing and wondering if I’ll wake to find the move just a long afternoon’s dream?