“. . .But walking,
which leads to seeing,
now that’s something.
That’s the invitation for every one of us today,
and everyday, in every conversation, interaction,
event, and moment: to walk, not run. And in doing so,
to see a whole world right here within this one. . . “

~ Excerpt from “Walk Don’t Run” by Rob Bell

Tired from my arrival, I lingered in bed, let the sun rise before waking, and went out to the Gulf after light. First sight: flight of birds in surf. Then, the backs of three boys as they waded into the surf. My guess was: first day of their vacation arrival. A woman stood nearby holding a baby. I asked if I could photograph the boys and she agreed. Their raw joy, their exuberant claiming of their experience of the waves and their moment, their morning, thrilled me. They waded. They waited. And then, they were in it. Of course they were, why shouldn’t they be washed up, frizzed up, splashed up by the joy of the warm wave and the light blue sky? I walked a long and happy way. Always the surprise of walking and passing so many humans. I pass so few of them in the woods with my dogs. I nod hello, I say hello, I smile. One woman asks, what are you taking a photo of? Just the wrack. Just because. I am seeing my way into experiencing this habitat and what it’s calling forth in me. I pass the Shellpicker, in her human form. Her sliver hair, in her white t-shirt with bright shells screen printed on her chest. She is visiting someone. I look forward, I hope I will see her in her enchanted manifestation too. I pass a weather beaten beach chair facing the sea with a broken seat, an abandoned Adirondack chair and it charms me, I take a closer look. I know this chair is making an offering. I claim it. And hope to discover it. When I return, after my long ramble, I am finding my way to the path through beach grass back to our place. There, up on the balcony, a figure in bright blue. I wave. He waves back. We have spotted each other, and I head home over the sand.