A quiet day

After last evening’s inspiring congregation – and my subsequent catharsis of recording what had transpired – it was after 3:00 am this morning before I retired to my virginal lair.  Whatever our hosts had said or put into our food or drink last night appeared to have worked a small miracle.  I slept soundly without the usual interruptions until almost noon today. I felt so well upon awakening that I was unable to diminish my customary displeasure when having arisen so late in the day and having undeniably missed an important segment of the day.  Yet I wasn’t entirely convinced that I had either the capacity or the disposition to turn the shortened day into a meaningful result when it was already manifestly curtailed of its elemental foundation. I was wrong.  It has been a perfectly delightful day!

After having performed my routine breakfast of sliced green apple, Brie cheese and steel cut oats (during which ceremony I swooned to Paul McCreesh’s Gabrieli Consort performing Handel’s Messiah which conveniently aligned with the upcoming Christian celebration of Easter), I continued my revival with a constitutional bike ride.  In view of the time – by this point approaching 2:00 pm – I confined my purgation to Gulf of Mexico Drive and Bayfront Park.  I didn’t however linger at the Park overlooking Sarasota Bay any longer than a moment; I was determined to capitalize upon the glowing sunshine by going to the beach across the road.  I was there in an instant, laying on the beach, feeling the tingling magic of the rays while listening to the sound of the sea.

It wasn’t long before I was moved to walk to the sea and immerse myself in the clear water.  There were the usual layers of cool and warm water but unusually the salinity was more pronounced in the deeper water near the sea bed of white beveled sand.  I swim under water with my eyes open.  I find the salinity refreshers and clarifies me, its own form of baptism I suppose.