I love the quiet of early mornings, lying in bed, listening to the world wake up. This morning, huddled next to Phil, just listening to his quiet breathing and watching my gorgeous tuscan gold curtains fluttering, all was right with my world. Mentally, I slipped into Chincoteague, and imagined the birds to be seagulls. I could smell the salt air and feel the deck under my feet. I feasted on this image. This is where my soul longed to be.
"We do not remember days; we remember moments." So very true; I so often go back to this moment in my mind...feasting on the sunrise over Oyster Bay. I can smell the rainforest crunch coffee that I'm sipping. Everyone else is asleep; only the ducks, seagulls, and I seem to be awake.
Water is my element; I'm a true Aquarian at heart. Water feeds my soul; I'm complete.
This weekend holds the busy-ness of everyday life. Nothing major is planned, but there's so much to get done between finishing up the business of school and tending to a home in need of cleaning and freshening. But, I want to be at Chincoteague. It's very strange not to have a week in June blocked out for our usual get away. I'm hoping that we can steal a few days here or there.
Whatever this weekend brings, I hope it brings journal time. I've not been able to get to the art I want to make. The last remnants of this cold still have their grip on me. I seem to need more sleep than usual, so I tumble into bed rather than making art. So, instead, I wake up having made art in my dreams. Journal pages and ideas dance across my mind's landscape. I need salt air, steamed clams, and journal pages.
All the little things that make magic - all the little scraps of magic that, when stitched together, make miracles.
Little blue tropical frogs.
My husband's breathing.
Time to journal.
White gel pens.
I wish you all a magical weekend.