A great book is like a secret door inviting us to unearth its content page by page. Moving, starting a new life in unfamiliar surrounding is much the same.
The doorbell of our new home is ringing, like it did at our old house before the six kids moved out.
Sandy with a parrot on her shoulder came by to say “Hi.” Instead of inviting her inside all I could think of was the bird flying all over dropping feathers and other unmentionable things.
Barbara from across the street walked over to tell me about the paddle boarding class she was taking and wanted to know if I would be interested. I was impressed but not interested. Not even a little bit.
Another neighbor shared that parrots are alligators’ favorite dessert. An image arises of an alligator moving slowly towards the pond behind our homes leaving a trail of blue feathers. Feeling bad about my treatment of Sandy and her bird, I google alligators’ favorite desserts. Can’t find it. My conscience is eased.
A couple on an adjacent street sold their eight-acre coffee plantation in Hawaii and chose to retire in this community. Learning of this, my husband spends days asking the air, “Why would a person leave Hawaii?” The air never answers.
Betty and Bob coast their bikes up our driveway wanting hubby (Tim) and me to cycle with them. I glimpse their skin-tight spandex shorts, jersey with a stand-up collar, and short-cut finger gloves and decline. Maybe another day, I say. Tim snickers.
Today, wearing flip flops, shorts and a t-shirt, I walk the beaches of the Atlantic Ocean on Florida’s northeastern shoreline. Breeze and aroma of marine life swirls around me below a big blue sky. I have reached 8,000 steps on my Fitbit. Walking up to my hubby who stands watching the waves, deep in his blue mind, “Tim, what do you say we head back?”
“Sounds good,” he says, “and I know where there is a Starbucks on the way back home.”