Changing Gears

It is approaching six o’clock in the morning. We are perched at the dining room table as though it were a library table, sipping coffee and noiselessly performing our morning computer routine. The Weather Network informs me we can expect a high of 72ºF today. I opened one of the balcony doors to admit the balmy air and the sound of the waves. While I slept last night I struggled with a dream, something involving an obligation which I couldn’t fulfill. It may be true that “there ain’t no ship to take you away from yourself” but it nonetheless appeases me to hear the sound of the surf before dawn and to see the harbour lights in the distance.  Currently my only waking concern is whether to refresh my cup of coffee.

We have already adapted to our temporary burrow.  The absorption was by degrees in accordance with need. Groceries were for example foremost upon the list.  Then followed the mundane adjustments, computer connections, sorting out the luggage, ensuring the toiletries were at hand.  We have now the privilege of unqualified leisure.  Bicycling is high upon that particular agenda.  I can readily distract myself and expiate any guilt I might otherwise harbour for unfettered indulgence by undertaking a bicycle ride, a healthful combination of exercise and tourism.  There is no threat of monotony when I know I can at almost any turn overlook an expanse of Ocean and feast my eyes upon white powdered sand and surf. It titillates me no end to confront what may as well be an eternity of harmony.

We have plucked ourselves from our customary surroundings and alighted upon a distant shore. The greatest challenge seems only to be the changing of gears. I won’t pretend that our former agenda was fraught with commitment or burdensome obligation, but I have to acknowledge that the current calendar is about as wide open as one could possibly imagine.  It dares me to revel in a dream come true.  I recall my mother having educated me years ago about the expression “to winter”, a phrase she knew instinctively denominated desirable social position.  To find myself living that once much anticipated aspiration is nothing short of remarkable, so much so that to fail to embrace its luxury would be an unforgivable indiscretion. I am confident that I have achieved every goal I might ever have had.