3-Day Adventure Part III
When you rent a car and take off at about 7 p.m. on a Friday night with only an overnight bag, a cooler full of ice and a map you know you’re in for an adventure. I’ve been trying to put the right words together to tell the story of this always exciting, often amazing, sometimes funny, 3-day adventure weekend, and I’ve had writer’s block.
Maybe it’s a story that can’t be told in its entirety. Maybe it’s not a story that has continuity, maybe it’s a book of essays, each one telling a different story, so I’ll begin in the middle with Sunday…
We said our thank yous and our goodbyes and headed off. We arrived to an empty parking lot and better yet, an empty beach. Now while I’ve been told there are more beautiful beaches on this island, to me the sight of palm trees and sand was all the beauty I needed.
I headed to the edge of the water to test the water temperature (and maybe even to feel the water so I could confirm it was really there). It was a bit cool, but in my mind it was just right. I went back to change out of my clothes and headed directly to the water. Baby steps, first up to my ankles, then mid-calf, then my knees, then my waist, then when the water reached my chest I took the plunge. I tasted the salt immediately as it stuck to my glossed lips and burned my eyes. It was heaven. In fact, it reminded me of a book I read recently, Lovely Bones in which the main character, Susie, goes to heaven. In the book heaven is basically whatever you want it to be. It is your heart’s desire. I, like Susie, had my heart’s desire, I was in my heaven.
The morning passed as B went on the search for sea life and I alternated between swimming, looking for seashells and my favorite activity, floating as I stared up at the beautiful sky. I was amazed at how the salt water made me so buoyant.
Every so often I would go sit near the edge of the water, stare out at the horizon and out into the waters that seemed never ending and I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with the feeling of gratitude. Awe inspired and humbled, I prayed.
How could I, this imperfect person, be blessed with being witness to so much beauty? I was in the presence of true art. The use of such bold colors and textures produced the kind of art that Michaelangelo, Van Gogh and Da Vinci aspired to create. As B said, “How can anyone deny that there is something bigger than us out there?”
It was Sunday and while I didn’t worship at the house that man built, I was worshiping at the house that He built: a living art gallery.