After a less than normally disturbed sleep, I have awoken to a mild, hazy day on the Atlantic Ocean. My view of this perfection – several deer just bounced by on the crest of the dunes – is nonetheless subdued by an indefatigable ambition for productivity.
The anxiety is enervated by the knowledge that today may qualify as a “day off” after having bicycled yesterday and thus expiated any resurfacing compunction. But there is no guarantee it will sustain my delinquency. When once the black coffee has done its duty and the pain killers have succeeded to smother my traditional morning back pain, I am inevitably prompted to rejoin the circus of life.
I shiver to recollect that two years ago in anticipation of our local municipal election I had unwisely submitted my nomination papers. it was perhaps the most unthinking moment of my entire life! Quite aside from the horrid intrusion of such a commitment upon my embryonic retirement there is the undeniable vilification which this Council has sustained almost from the outset. The so-called privilege of the masses to mock their betters has taken on a decidedly unseemly moldiness and it makes me tremble to contemplate the machinations of those irate and often nameless observers bent upon heartless derision. The only reason I reflect upon the erstwhile possibility of civic duty is because it exemplifies what might have been a way to contribute to society and to employ my professional experience. Yet as it now stands my most earnest deliberation is whether to lay by the pool this afternoon or to go for a bicycle ride or both. At the moment I am staring at a tiny doe as she grazes among the dunes. There are people walking along the beach in the distance. The balcony door is opened wide. I have consumed my bowl of fresh fruit (green apple, two Mandarin oranges and small prunes) and drunk my fill of Java. A formation of four pelicans skims the Ocean shore. I feel rather drawn to be part of that mosaic.
It is now approaching 5:30 pm. I have returned from a very agreeable afternoon bicycle ride, a distance of 14.16 miles consuming a period of 2 hrs. 45 mins. It was a continuation of the consummate beach day, one not to have been missed. I began my jaunt by entering the beach at Tower Beach but was later obliged to turn back as the workers were once again today in the process of restoring the beach just south of Beach Club. As I approached the scene of activity, the luminously clad guardian of the bulldozers bolted from his tether like a pugnacious Rottweiler intent on mischief but I was forewarned by his identical behaviour yesterday and turned my back upon him before he could rejoice in his subaltern authority.
I retraced my steps and connected instead with the leisure path along South Sea Pines Drive.
My journey was basically through our gated community Sea Pines to Coligny Park along South Forest Beach. More than once I remarked to myself that today was oddly calm, no doubt the quiet before the anticipated commotion of American Thanksgiving. The only young people who dotted the pathway were several students leaving the Hilton Head Preparatory school around 3:00 pm.
When I arrived at Coligny Park I paused for a moment in the shade to check my email and to send a “selfie” back home as a progress report. Then it was onto the beach and into the setting sun to Beach Club where I regained the pathway by the golf club and headed directly south in the direction of Land’s End. From time to time I was obliged to make minor detours to accommodate the workmen who were trimming trees along the route.
As is frequently my custom upon completing an outing I reclined by the pool afterwards. Not surprisingly there was no one else by the pool at that time. I heard only the occasional clack of a falling pine cone upon the cement surrounding the pool. And the jungle-like proclamation of a bird I have yet to identify.
Upon my arrival at the pool I practically bumped into several deer which had congregated near the pool entrance. They regarded me unabashedly.
Though it was warm today and I sported only a short-sleeved Polo shirt, I began to feel a chill by the pool as the sun descended. I hadn’t eaten anything since my bowl of fruit in the morning. I began contemplating what I might have for dinner. There were lots of fresh vegetables and some wood roasted salmon. For the past week or ten days we’ve been trying to eat properly with a view to losing some weight. There is no weigh scale in the bathroom but I believe I have lost a pound or two already. I just feel slightly trimmer and when I look at myself in the mirror in the morning I don’t appear as bulbous. It’s still a tough call so I am bound to wait for further evidence. Meanwhile I am convinced that the work of dieting has to be done by the food not otherwise. We lately watched a documentary about the benefits of “juicing” and the salient point I recall about the entire production is the comment that the advantage of fresh vegetables is that they provide the our nutrition. Apparently the protein – meat, cheese and eggs – is mostly filler. I believe it. I have been eating raw vegetables every day for the past week and perhaps as a consequence I have noticed a diminished appetite, something I can only attribute to the heightened nutrition of what I’ve ingested. Sugar is so comparatively addictive, one can never get enough of it. I hunt out sugar in pasta and granola, but that is off the table at the moment. Regularly I visualize the delight of a toasted English muffin lathered in butter and dripping with peanut butter. Granola is now a thing of the past. A waitress whom we recently met at LowCountry Café who had lost 40 pounds dismissed granola as the worst possible food. Some things at least are clear on this hazy day!