Focus – except when it suggests monomaniacal behaviour – is generally considered an advantage.  It reputedly enhances intensity (which I suppose is axiomatic) and – what is likely just as significant by default – it eliminates distracting fluff. While I have never been inclined to cultivate a wide and contemporaneous view of the world (preferring instead to remain centered on one thing at a time) I nonetheless fashion that my interests are catholic. I subscribe to a curiosity in almost anything given the opportunity. But one thing is certain, I prefer to remain focussed if only because my inherent concentration dilutes the product when the absorption is spread too thinly. What governs my so-called discernment is my predisposition; specifically, I am not persuaded by the rapture of others to adopt any particular concentration. When it comes to my personal decisions I decide what and when.

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If the weather on Jekyll Island had been sunny or at least sunnier – even if not especially warm – we would have stayed another day as we had originally planned to do.  However this morning’s gloomy drizzle and uniform charcoal sky dissuaded us from lingering.  We had already been soaked yesterday on our bike ride around the Island, reminiscent of a dripping tropical jungle tour. And as much as I appreciated the kindness and welcoming of the staff at Hampton Inn it is not a hotel to which I would return any time soon, just a bit too run-of-the-mill for my liking, a little more “real” (though unquestionably practical) than my quixotic mind prefers.  The new Westin – further up the beach – is my choice. Even the old Jekyll Island Club with its creaky floors and liveried dining room staff leaves me cold by comparison.

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Shortly we leave our cherished Ocean-view condominium on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina for a few days and drive southward about 2½ hours to Jekyll Island, Georgia.  Our preparatory stop will be lunch at the King and Prince Beach Resort on St. Simons Island, Georgia another sea island mere minutes from Jekyll Island.

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It was cold today, a flat, dispirited grey day by the Atlantic Ocean. The Island was deserted. Christmas is less than a week away and nobody wants to leave home. But that didn’t stop me. After my usual elongated breakfast ceremony I wasn’t about the forgo a breath of sea air. I bicycled under the gloomy canopy of trees along the paths against the wind to my destination.  I had of course checked the weather and the tides before I left so I knew I would have my reward upon my return. It was a solitary outing.  The Tennis courts were empty.  There was no one else on the paths.

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All my life I have heard (as no doubt you have too) the admonition to enjoy life while you can. Carpe Diem – “Seize the Day” – it’s a hackneyed refrain and the wisdom, while easily appreciated even if not readily engaged, is as often ignored. When however I recently read a twist on the aphorism, a short exchange between a father and his son – “Be careful.  Life is short.” – I took especial notice.  What’s unique about this warning is its conjunction with a precaution instead of its stand-alone promotion of carefree gusto.

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Symbols, icons and signs are rather like etiquette and new foods – they require exposure, sampling and education.  All that takes time (and often money). And the results vary with each individual depending of course upon the breadth of experience. A summary of the symbols, icons and signs which now dwell in my mind is a collection of traits of materiality (primarily) and immateriality (things like spiritual or mystical indicators) which largely through repetition have become trusted bulwarks and sources of pleasure or inspiration. Characteristically of any development my preferred symbols, icons and signs have narrowed and been refined over time. An examination of those images is a study not merely of representation but of paragons, an elevation to shining examples.

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It is I find quite remarkable how little removed one must be from the Ocean before one stops hearing the crashing of the rolling waves. For that reason alone I prefer to travel au bord de la mer when bicycling. Many walkers on the beach do the same.  They too feel the magnetism of the sea.  Besides there is an element of game-playing in skirting the incoming waves as they spread unpredictably upon the shore (a characteristic which I believe is more pronounced when the tide is coming in than otherwise though I can’t imagine why it should necessarily be so).

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Hibernation is not an overwhelming fatigue, a capitulation to the relentless drain of living. It is a calculated torpor to conserve energy when sufficient food is unavailable. In its broadest perspective it is Nature’s signal to shut down all but the most essential functions to permit a time to recoup.

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There are some things we just don’t talk about.  Not necessarily because the topic is lewd or especially awkward – like bodily functions or marital problems – but rather because the subject is so patently boring, like a sleepless night.  It’s not exactly the fabric of either mystery or science. In fact considering what most people do to combat a sleepless night there really isn’t much of substance to observe.  The stock response to a sleepless night is to roll about in one’s bed, endlessly uncomfortable, drifting back and forth between resolve and resignation, unsure of the time, chilled by the damn night air, trepidatious about the future, perhaps punishing oneself for this or that.  All in all it is a rollicking distressful sensation.

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If one could rely upon the “puffery” of retailers we’d have no complaint with their products or services. Sorrily we can’t and we do. The emerging theme is that almost anything related to technology is fraught with towering promise and corresponding disillusionment. Unfortunately the battle ground for customer dollars is cluttered with so many companies and options that anything approaching uniformity is a distant dream. I am reminded of the struggle which formerly existed between VHS and Betamax, the “Video Format War”.

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