Cometsgirl

What a difference a day makes. The temperature was up to 59 degrees this afternoon. Perfect for an afternoon walk on the beach.

It was not quite warm enough this morning to take in the sunrise. That will come tomorrow.
Instead we “settled” for the early morning marsh view outside the front window.

A day to read, watch the amazing variety of birds right out front – egrets, gulls, bluebirds – and create delicious meals using the provisions we brought or purchased upon arrival. And to watch women’s basketball games on this first day of the NCAA Tournament.

Also to create postcards to send to friends and family. Handmade cards have become part of our travels, and it’s so satisfying to design cards that reflect each travel locale.

By mid afternoon, it was warm enough by our standards, to walk the beach.

Very true. I followed those words this afternoon, choosing to walk the few blocks to the beach and back. We were rewarded with a large white egret taking flight right alongside us. It was so good to be on foot this warmed-up day.

Hard to imagine, but freeze warnings were issued last night for Tybee Island and nearby Savannah. Brr!

Nice morning view of the marsh, from INSIDE. 

So today’s plan was to do indoor activities.

We began the day in Savannah at Back in the Day for cappuccinos and seriously tasty biscuits.

Then on to Milan Day Spa for seriously amazing pedicures.

It’s unseasonably chilly on Tybee Island. Cool enough to do a morning rollover instead of getting up to walk several blocks to get to the beach for sunrise. Tybee time is about rest, though, so that worked.

A lovely slow start to the day. Reading and pondering how to respond to today’s #40 Acts Stewardship challenge. Today’s invitation was Real Fruits.

Who could you creatively gift today? Do you know someone who’s struggling with money? Put their need first and treat them with what you have. That could be dropping off some supermarket vouchers, or taking them out for a meal/movie on you.

Before I read these words, I had already offered to help a ffriend with airfare for a trip she wanted to make. A trip that would offer her a place of retreat.  This gave me pause, having responded to today’s challenge before I knew it. 

I did eventually get to Tybean, local coffee house. It was originally a Kickstarter project. I would have been a backer if I had known about it. It’s a luxury to find good espresso drinks without having to leave the island. 

Eventually it was warm enough to walk the beach. 

I was struck by the patterns along my walk. Thinking about the patterns in my life. 

The textures of my life are as varied as the patterns seen on my shore walk. Such variety makes up who I am and how I live my life.  There are smooth and jagged pieces. Also pieces of intricate design. Together they shape my life and my intentions. As this day comes to an end, I intend to send a donation to the Food Bank of Northeast Georgia, a commitment to the pattern of ongoing support for those who respond to the hungry.

After stops and starts along the way, I made it to Tybee Island. I was never certain I would make it here this year, until I crossed over the Bull River onto the island, and then a few minutes later turned into the Bluebird B&B.

At last. 

After “monstrous” unpacking (gotta bring everything you think you could possibly need when choosing non-luxury accommodations), we settled into dinner by sunset. A salad of fresh local greens, Irish cheddar, 3-cheese black pepper bread and sparkling water was a feast. 

Toward the end of sunset we did Evening Prayer;

Looking out my window just now- at the mostly barren woods, I can just make out “ideas” of green.  Of renewal. Of the coming of Spring.

Looking out a different window, I see a definite sign of renewal.  At the end of the drive is a bank of yellow.  Forsythia.  And nearby, daffodils.
           

 Closer to the house there is the sight of purple, of lavender.  THE lilac.

All signs that what has been slumbering through the winter, is awakening.  Rebirth.

May Sarton, in her poem Blizzard, says “Hard to imagine daffodils…in this nowhere landscape..”;  and saying further, “this very field, changed utterly, with hosts of daffodils to show..”.  Indeed, what has been unseen is now seen.

Now in the midst of the Season of Lent, I’m aware of deepening down, of anticipation, of a kind of personal barren time.

In a sense, I have been beneath the ground, and just lately preparing for the Spring of my soul.  Buffered about in the past twelve months, I’m a work in progress toward my “blooming”,

Tybee Time calls once again.  This will be the fourteenth Lenten journey to Tybee.  Rest and reflection up ahead.  And renewal.

And so Epiphany in Taos is completed. Yet it will continue in my heart and soul. I so much needed this time and space for my soul-healing.

It took a leap of faith to substitute 22 years of Advent trips with the new Epiphany “look”. And a leap of faith that winter travel in and out of both Atlanta and Albuquerque would work.  There’s a lesson there about trust.

And now we each fly our separate ways back home, knowing a new tradition has begun. I return home filled with the northern New Mexico winter quietness. Fed by New Mexican red files and blue corn tortillas, this sustenance will carry me on the way to see what God has in store for me now.

Switching up the 22 years of Advent travel to Epiphany travel has opened up new possibilities and promises of New Mexico travel. Forced by situation to abandon the annual Advent trip, and to create alternate travel, the Season of Epiphany stepped in.

Lots less bustling. With time to feed the birds. 

Many more cozy fires.

A slower rhythm of moving through each day.

Time to stop and savor.

Old friends.

New friends.

Much joy of this place in this time.  

There is uncommon beauty to be found in this area.

There is also uncommon silence. And a feeling of solitude.

May Sarton says,
“There is a wilder solitude in winter
Where every sense is pricked alive and keen.”

This day brings the joy of reuniting with two long-time friends, both artists in their own way.

Bonnie is a massage therapist I’ve been going to for a decade. She sculpts my muscles and my circulatory system into ways of healing and rejuvenation.

That’s her place up ahead on the right.

But first, this new day brings 17 degrees outside, and a warming fire inside.

And a stop at Coffee Apothecary. 

Lunch of fire-hot green chile. 

There’s a forecast for snow later.

Tonight Abby, a local ceramist will come for dinner. We’ve been friends now for many years. Time spent with her is as delicious as the meal will be.