Monday, September 17, 2012

Sun Goes Down

I was driving to the supermarket the other night, south down US 1, glanced to my right, and had to pull off the road to take this shot with my iPhone 4S.  This light lasts for only a few minutes, so to be able to capture it takes a bit of ruthlessness.  Fortunately, the traffic was light.  Exquisite, no?

What a lovely morning yesterday at Saint Augustine Beach with J.  The surf was roiling, but the water was warm.  We waded out up to our knees, and held hands as the waves crashed around us.  Then spent some time just sitting in the shallow water and talking.  So beautiful, so perfect.  We are both happy in the moment, and we call our Sunday mornings "church."  One cannot be closer to God than in nature.  And the sea?  She is the mother.

Came home, and T. and I walked around their property looking at the plants and landscapes.  T. is a green thumb extraordinaire, can get any cutting to root, and they have the perfect dappled sunlight that caresses the plants, rather than burning the hell out of them.  I have either deep shade or blazing sun on my property, so it's a challenge to figure out what goes where.  T. has a long deep border of  baby's breath, that delicate sweet flower that often ends up in bridal bouquets.  It dies back in the winter, and comes back in the spring.  Told him to secure me a clump.

Went to the pool this morning to swim.  It was the first session of the water aerobics class, which I did not participate in but experienced vicariously while I was swimming laps.  So many older women with hats and sunglasses jogging, cross country skiing, and strengthing core in the chlorine.  70s and 80s dance music blasting from the boom box.  I overhear a woman saying, "That man over there asked me if he could swim naked.  I said sure.  I'll hold your swimsuit!"  Everyone cracked up.

I talked with the instuctor after the class, since I had heard her say she had double knee replacement, like I.  She talked about her surgeon, a local guy recommended by many, and criticized by some.  He seems to be the best local doc around for knees, and I need someone who will follow up on my replacement surgery.  Wanda is the instructor's name, and I'm not sure yet, but I think she might be the woman in the Cadillac, with her husband, who J. and I see at the beach each Sunday.  Will follow up on that.

I so enjoy watching Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations."  I normally hate "reality" shows, but his is so well done, so full of cultural information and wonderful photography.  And he is brutally honest about himself.  One of the few reasons to watch television.  Tonight, he visited "The Integratron," in the Mojave desert.

I have not yet experienced the American southwest up close, only from the economy seat of an airplane.

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