Our beezer breakfast this morning at Lowcountry Produce Market & Café was interrupted – albeit at the exact moment we were preparing to leave the restaurant – by a telephone call from a singularly pleasant and accommodating representative of Bell Canada.  Last evening I had sent a fretful email to the representative (Linda – EY55318 Bell Customer Service) complaining once again about an unwarranted data charge on our account. This annoyance has I regret to say repeated annually more often than I care to recall upon our transition for the winter from Canada (Bell Canada) to the United States of America (AT&T or Telus). If it were not for my obsessiveness I am certain the trifling though nefarious charges would go entirely unnoticed. It infuriates me to dismiss out-of-hand even such petty oversight as ten or twenty dollars by a huge corporation such as Bell Canada – especially as we have had to endure this irritation year after year. Though out of a sense of judgement I attempt to diminish my preoccupation with the abuse – arguing within myself that it is of small consequence in the broader scheme of things – I cannot resist at least recording my objection.

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Photography is of late a revitalized hobby of mine.  As a young man I toyed with photography on an Agfa Silette-LK 35 mm camera; and, later thinking my skill might improve with a more expensive Nikon camera – which it did not – I flirted in that mechanical depth. But it was only when I unwittingly discovered the “edit” feature of the iPhone camera that the compulsion took hold. Subject to obvious constraints I consider photography a matter of self-expression.  The amateur interest may not qualify as artistic but it is more than just snapping a shutter. Everybody knows the quip about the two ways of looking at things; viz., the glass half-empty or the glass half-full. When it comes to photography – which I consider reflective of the way people view things in life – the image in my opinion is less a matter of philosophy and more a matter of phrenology.

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It was a truncated but trenchant bicycle ride today.  Across Lighthouse Lane to Plantation Drive then down Heritage Road and Old Military Road around the inlet to S Sea Pines Drive back through the golf club past the wavering sea grasses and Palmetto ferns towards home. The 8.39 km jaunt was just enough to expiate our guilt; enough to soften the angst; enough to capture a final blink.  We leave in two days. Our luggage is mainly packed and already stowed. The remaining necessities are a minimum. The ‘fridge is nigh on empty. We’ve made plans for our concluding breakfast at nearby Lowcountry Produce Market and Café wither we’ll take our last bicycle ride through the towering sea pines. Our dinner on the eve of our departure – as it was on the eve of our arrival 4½ months ago – will be grâce à la cuisine of the chef at the club house. It’s time to say farewell to Hilton Head Island for another season!

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The incontrovertible relief of a quiet moment is for me not entirely uncommon. Nor must I confess is it by any account routine. Perhaps the uniqueness of a quiet moment is part of its allure. I haven’t come near to triggering a quiet moment on command (though maybe I should if I were to remain au courant or preserve my chakra).  For the time being however a quiet moment is an accident.  Often it is merely the vacuum that follows a prior absorption, the fruition of the completion of a focus or duty, occasionally the rainbow after the rain.

The concept of the chakra arose in the early traditions of Hinduism. Beliefs differ between the Indian religions, with many Buddhist texts consistently mentioning five chakras, while Hindu sources reference six or seven. Early Sanskrit texts speak of them both as meditative visualizations combining flowers and mantras and as physical entities in the body. Within Kundalini yoga, the techniques of breathing exercises, visualizations, mudras, bandhas, kriyas, and mantras are focused on manipulating the flow of subtle energy through chakras.

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Most of us have a lot going on in our lives at any one time – at least doing and planning things we either prefer or must do – like vacations and going to work. As a result we sometimes overlook doing and planning the things that aren’t on our immediate agenda.  While we think nothing of going grocery shopping to prepare our meals, we are less inclined to accommodate provisions for less compelling matters.

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Youth!  Make no mistake – being young at heart doesn’t cut it! Youth is like money and things, you can’t have both. Most people with whom I now associate are old; and some of them have a lot of money. Which is to say, they’re not young. In the elevator it’s an elderly woman with platinum dyed blonde hair closely resembling a wig, her face wrinkled beneath cosmetic; she shares a pleasant greeting sharpened by a disparaging comment about spring cleaning.  On the telephone it’s a chap I have known for over forty years, a man with a persistent stutter; a mere glance at our past is instantly enriched with one thousand images of business, contracts and meetings. With whomever I communicate by email we’re certain to be of an age, perhaps friends or just acquaintances but not my physician, accountant or financial advisor all of whom are much younger than I (their predecessors and my former confidants having retired). Even swimming in the pool the athletic swimmer – a stranger- told me he was 76 years of age and a former hockey player so ancient I recollected the names of other players. The predominance of people I pass on the bicycle path and with whom I share a cheery greeting are gray haired and bent. The fellow in the parking lot, another interloper newly arrived, is thin and tall. And old.

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In the early 1950s, three lumber mills contributed to the logging of 19,000 acres of the island. The island population was only 300 residents. Before 1956, access to Hilton Head was limited to private boats and a state-operated ferry. The island’s economy centered on shipbuilding, cotton, lumbering, and fishing.

As we prepare to leave Hilton Head Island and to reignite our domestic interests in Mississippi Mills I have today coincidentally been moved to look back on the past and look forward upon the future.

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As I stare out our third floor balcony window, munching slices of organic Honey Crisp apple, I see between sea pines and the tops of palm trees a tee on the golf course.  It is early morning – not long after eight o’clock. The manicured green grass shimmers with dew. The shadows are long across the fairway. Already there are golfers – appearing in the distance like muted brushes of a painting – making the rounds. The sky is clear, more crystal white than blue. I have just returned from the car wash, removing yesterday’s pollen. And filled the gas tank on Lighthouse Road at the outdated Exxon outlet which is there primarily I am sure to accommodate the army of grounds keepers employed by Sea Pines Association and the residential owners. I have routinely seen workers there at noon collecting from the convenience store what seems to be take-out sandwiches wrapped in heavy white paper.

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It’s one thing to talk about it; it’s another to do it. Such was my posture this morning as I arose from beneath the covers. Yesterday’s talk about the beach was today’s reality. The two objectives – the beach and a swim in the sea – were at hand.

In humans, posture can provide a significant amount of important information through nonverbal communication. Psychological studies have also demonstrated the effects of body posture on emotions. This research can be traced back to Charles Darwin’s studies of emotion and movement in humans and animals. Currently, many studies have shown that certain patterns of body movements are indicative of specific emotions. Researchers studied sign language and found that even non-sign language users can determine emotions from only hand movements. Another example is the fact that anger is characterized by forward whole body movement. The theories that guide research in this field are the self-validation or perception theory and the embodied emotion theory.

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The 10-Day Forecast suits me well.  Wind and rain today, then four days of sun and high temps followed by three days of rain and one of sunshine.  The day we leave is predicted to be sunny and warm. This all matters because it enables me to strategize my beach attendances mixed with swimming in the Ocean. Throughout the process, in addition to a beach towel in the bicycle basket, I shall sport my black Speedo swimming trunks, a linen shirt by either Tommy Bahama RELAX (white) or HiHo Beach fit (turquoise), worn-out SAS Decksider lace up Boat Shoes, Apple Watch, Sonny’s Original Surf Paste (Texturizing/Medium Hold/Matte Finish/UV Protecting enriched with Hawaiian Black Lava Sea Salt and Sea Kemp) and customary accompanying glitter on the fourth right, left pinky and around the neck. In the pockets of my trunks will be my iPhone and Carmex Classic Lip Balm (medicated) which I use as a nourishing face cream as well. For the uninterrupted project there are two objectives: sun and swim.

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