Soaking in Summer

Soaking up SummerIt was just too hot and the air was halting when I ventured out the door this morning.  I returned to the house to retrieve the puffer from my purse.  My chest was closing tight and the airways were blocked.

With this poor air quality and the thermostat reading ” feels like 40″ there was no way on earth I could do anything but sit fairly still for the day so I decided to go to the beach.  This is what I wrote as I sat soaking in summer.

I have wanted to be here so many days this summer and now that I’m here I can’t imagine why it took me so long to get here.

There was a wanting, a wishing to not be alone but now I would have it no other way.  My only companions are a boat anchored a short way off with two swimmers emerging from it, a kayaker, tired from plying these huge waves and white caps.  The kayaker sits on his craft a hundred yards down the beach.  To the east a beach full of colourful umbrellas with chairs and people but they are too far away to even see if they have faces .

The clouds billow with fierce looking dark faces, momentarily block the sun and dissipate, leaving blue, hazy sky to wait for the next threat of summer storm.

The waves roar to the shore crashing, sometimes with strength and sometimes with a sort of pity for having broken there.

My chair is carefully placed on the sand now so as not to get my journal wet but when I was reading my feet squished in the sand beneath the waves, sinking lower with each rush of water.

A gull floats in the face of the sun, looking briefly like mere shadow but then flits and dives to catch the light on white wings.

The rocks dance gracefully in the water with their green skirts of moss floating to and from with the movement.  A tree struggles to grow among them.  I don’t know how it has survived the last two winters.

My solitude is far from silent.  Not even three second can pass before another crash of wave but it is the noise of peace in my heart.

Something in me revives when I sit by this shore.  A thousand happy memories dance in my head and while they are accompanied by some melancholy it does not linger.

Can you feel the heat of the sun tighten the skin on hands and legs.  I know I will have a little sun burn but my face revels in the mix of heat and watery air.

Just as my bathing suit is close to dry I will consider the options of dressing and climbing the hill to home.

Yet no!  I will linger and once more venture to the waves for one last lap of summer against my chest.

First sandbar, second sandbar, then third; the waves beyond are over my head.  I dive in as if I am ten again. The water lifts me, weightless.  I find myself drifting with the current and swim a little against it.  Then swim and walk back to shore.

Waves slap my things and I laugh at life.

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About Peggy Guiler

You just never know what show up on my blog. As the name implies it is about the stuff of life just like Spilt Milk. Everyday events spark thought and contemplation. Special events in the community, the country or the world may strike a cord and get me talking. Sometimes it's about people in my life or circumstances, sometimes about my garden, sometimes about a book or a political issue. Always it's about something I am passionate about. In my business, River of Hope Enterprises, I work as an "Associate Certified Coach" (International Coach Federation), a trainer, consultant and speaker. and soon to be, spiritual director. I also drive a school bus to keep the wolf from the door while I build my business. I love the kids on the bus (most of the time). My family is grown and I have three grandkids who thrill my heart but I don't get to see any of them very often. Circumstances of life have made "family" difficult. My son died by suicide at age 16 in 2000 and the strain on our family relationships since has been huge. Mental health is a field where I worked for almost 20 years and where I still do some consulting and training. That combined with my own battle with depression and my son's death weave together to form some of my greatest soap box items: suicide intervention, suicide bereavement and peer support in mental health are right on the top of my list. Social justice is an underlying passion. Keeping the wolf from the door as a single parent was full-time work and my career path as a journalists was augmented with cleaning contracts, cooking, retail clerk, and bartending. I have known hard work and am grateful for the experience and perspective it has given me. My own passion for learning has now taken me toward a new field as a Spiritual Director. I am studying with the Ontario Jubilee Program. This new field I believe puts all my talents with people into one place which and may​ become something I can continue into retirement. Supporting people is what I do best. Woven into all of this is my love of writing. Trained as a Journalist, and having worked in the field as a freelance news writer for many years, I have a great love for writing. This blog is a new beginning for me. As I hone my skills and begin to form a daily discipline of writing I hope it will lead to more writing in the future.
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6 Responses to Soaking in Summer

  1. Lovely commentary, Peg. I hope you are not too sunburned today. It wouldn’t take too long in that sun to get toasted. It feels like the summer is wrapping up with a nice bow of hot sun and warm weather. Today, I enjoyed water in another venue. My backyard pool area has become an oasis of relaxation for me this year. I love the newly acquired wind chimes that are two feet long that give such a beautiful calming sound. The oriole flies in occassionally and the barn swallows that fly in and out of my barn hay loft start to swoop down as the afternoon starts to wind down, hunting bugs off the grass and coming into the pool area for their well deserved drink of water just before nightfall. Sitting here and enjoying the sounds of the crickets and the warmth of the day, makes me appreciate the pool every day, because I know the end is in site. Oh how, I dread the fact this haven of rest and calm outside in my backyard will become a barren space of white snow and ice, instead of my place of comfort and solitude that I have so much enjoyed this summer.

  2. Beautifully written I was there with you each moment!

  3. Sammy D. says:

    ” … It is the noise of peace in my heart.” The essence of beach solitude. Well written, Peg! You took me there.

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