Oh What a Beautiful Morning

I sit here rocking on the deck listening to the sound of the water spilling over the waterfall in the pool and am annoyed by the sound of the pump and the churning of the compressor at the house next door.  What is a beautiful and tranquil looking setting is in fact, anything but that.  A walk to the water's edge near the creek brings me ever so much closer to the pump and sound of the wind and the drizzle of leaves falling from the oak trees is masked by motor noises. 

In search of peace, I retreat, retracing my steps from my pre-sunrise walk.  I find my granite slab that rolls off the side of the road and park myself there.  At 5:00 a.m. this morning the only sound was that of my own foot steps and then, in a childlike scary moment, I imagine another set of foot steps following closely behind me and others walking towards me from somewhere in the darkness and I shiver. 

The moon is full and passing clouds takes the vision of my surroundings through a slideshow of pitch darkness and the lightest of nights, leaving me unsure and somewhat unsteady in the moving shadows.  I would like to say that my venturing out into the night was for the sole purpose of enjoying the peacefulness and the full moon, but no, that's not why.  The buzz of my silenced cell phone leaves my heart racing as I realize I've finally found enough of a signal so that an anticipated call can finally get through to me.

My friend from the great white north has also taken a walk out into the moonlight in search of a signal.  He finds one a short walk from his cabin along a highway teaming with logging trucks.  We regale each other about our weekend getaways; mine on a spring-like weekend with twenty-seven amazing women in the Texas Hill Country.  He, on the other hand, is on the North Shore of Lake Superior on an annual cross country ski weekend with two of his best friends.  I sit in the darkness of the South at 62 degrees.  He stands in the darkness of the far North at zero degrees.  He pauses my chatter to tell me he hears wolves howling nearby and holds the phone up in hopes that I can hear them.  I can't, but I find it quite endearing that he so wanted to share that with me. "Oh my God, Nancy, this is so cool!"

Yesterday, I walked around the area taking pictures and looking for writing inspiration.  My first stop was at the rope and log swings across the road from the house.  Swings are simply irresistable to me so I plop myself into the "single" swing with my hands full of pen, journal, phone and camera and almost flip over backward and fall out of the swing on my ass.  I catch myself just in time and find myself laughing out loud and all alone.  I tell my friend that story and he says he would have like to have seen that.  He tells me a story I've heard from him before about a rope swing which hung from an enourmous Ponderosa pine at his favorite place on earth in the mountains of Arizona.  The story is of a game with the purpose of terrifying a young one or a new friend. The kids would give a turn to the victim on the huge arching swing - get them swinging high and wild, then yell something about a giant monster bird coming at them.  Everyone would run screaming and leave the swinger alone and petrified and unable to stop the swing and save himself from certain death.

My weekend has been picture perfect so far, filled with laughter, "super heros", spectacular food, affection and art.  His is also off to a glorious start with beautiful yet icey weather, lunch at a beloved eatery on the lake front, a hike through the deep snow and the sighting of two bald eagles.   I say, "Oh! I want to do that!" He says, "Yes. I'll  bring you here.  It's on our list, Sweetie."

Yesterday morning when I was little foggy after the night of wine, boiling hot tub water and crazy yet "spiritual" naked women, I thought it was Thursday when in fact it was Friday.  My friend says to me "How much wine did you have exactly?"  When I told Lisa about this exchange, she said "Did you tell him just enough wine to time travel!'  Last night as Lisa and I were getting into bed we decided to leave the windows open.  Lisa says "Lower the blinds just in case the sun comes up tomorrow."  My sis has a way with words!  She speaks and I just write it all down. 

Well, the sun did in fact come up and our weekend ended with 27 brilliant, fun loving, talented and lovely women embraced in a tight circle singing "Oh what a beautiful morning" at the top our lungs. And so it is.