a Radiant Band of Light

This is my first post.
And this post here was posted to my FB account, but was important enough I felt I should post it here, too.


Falling in love....

Its hard to remember the first time I fell in love. I don't think there is that one ahhhh moment, but a series of them, linked together by memories, paperdolls joined hand to hand by the most fragile and yet strong thread. For me, it was that first trip down to the Gulf. The excitement building as we passed through the outskirts of Alabama towns that were merely green signs on the interstate, a friendly and not so scary interstate...not like here or back near Atlanta, where drivers careened onto the road with breakneck urgency. Still, more friendly than up here...'Welcome to Atlanta, y'all. Now kindly get your Northern ass out of our way or we'll have to run you over.' But I was in Snowball, and her Alabama plates were protection against anything bad. And finally, after many a long year, Tiger was with me. He had always been with me, though, hadn't he? It felt as though we had never Not been. So sitting there together, it seemed fate when he started to talk about Mobile, and then the wonder of the coast, that I said 'Why don't we go? Can we?" He looked at me, and without word, the white muzzle of the sleek Intrepid found the way.... Past Montgomery, I turned and looked at the large car plant along the highway, huge, daunting. I saw the sign for Tuskeegee, because my mothers boyfriend was friends with one of the Airmen, long since retired. I would have liked to have seen the place, but today....my heart pulled me toward home. As we drove, we talked. The road unraveled, the stories with it. There is no loss for words when you're with someone your heart has always known. There is no lack of comfort of the familar as you move through a world that is simply confirmation of who you are. And as we got closer to the destination, Tiger would point out things to me....'you see there? That town is where my aunt and uncle lived. They had pecan trees in the yard, and they used to wait til after a storm and my aunt would go get them, make the best pie..' When you begin to near Mobile, there is the beginning of water. I forget what it's called, the highway divides and you are going over a long bridge of sorts that brings you into this city. There was excitement, and I knew....it's that familar out of time and space thing.....that tells you that you have been before, that sense of a catch in the throat as the trees begin, those large, looming oak trees that line the boulevard. Mobile is the most beautiful city on earth. I am a traitor when I say that, for I love New Orleans, and am as seduced by her magic as everyone before me. I love New Orleans with every fiber of my being. She's my Special city. But Mobile, for all her shabby places, will strke them from your heart with wonder as you drive under the huge oaks with shiny Mardi gras beads still dangling. The sleepy mansions that line the boulevard looking as though time has not passed, that this city is still the Grand dame of the South. There are large porches, greecian columns that curl down to iron rails. And the Square, with it's Spanish moss dripping from the trees, the old spanish balconies, the beginning to come to life again artist quater, with small cafes and places to eat. Yes, the park with it's bench where we pause and take deep breaths. There are homeless folk here, but it's not like New York....I am worlds away from there now. And this is wonderous! There could not be anything ugly here as the homeless lady wishes me a good afternoon, and could I spare her some change so she could get something cold to drink?' Why is poverty so universal? And after a bit of breathing in the warm Southern air, we went back to the car. Through the tunnel, out onto the causeway, and we were coastal bound, Snowball gliding along as though she didn't need a driver. She, sleek and shiny, belonged, too. We ran alongside the water. Tiger explained the causeway was lined with different restaurants. Much later we would eat here, and months later he would work at one. But today, we were on our way to that paradise Tiger had described to me as powder sand with ocean that was emerald green and went on forever. Along the way we curved inland again. We passed through small towns, stopped at a local fruit stand where an old man told me 'Ma'am, you can't get better satsumas anywhere, now." I turned to Tiger with wonder and he smiled. The man asked where I was from. I told him New York and he nodded, it seemed sadly. No wonder I felt myself turning red, at loss. I had no clue what a Satsuma looked like! Poor uneducated Yankee that I was. The air is warm in a way that wraps you in a blanket. Yes, the beginning of a heat that you can't know anywhere else but in the 'deep south', but the breeze from the water, even inland is gentle, tickling the side of the car. And then the town of Foley. We passed through, and I looked at the wonderful places that are not like anywhere else. I liked Foley, there is a small town feel to it. There is a wonderful old hotel in Foley, and a very old drugstore with a bench out front. But it was late afternoon, the sun beginning to blaze in a way that it does not here. It is tropical and soothing, harsh and yet with a blazing light that shifts and changes when it begins to edge toward evening. And then, we passed over yet another bridge, the Intercoastal. And we were in Gulf Shores. The City of Gulf Shores. We drove up to the parking area by the beach, and Tiger reached for me as we got out of the car. For the first time, I breathed in warm sea, and it reached out to me, wrapped around me, as together Tiger and I walked uip to wooden walkway and then crossing it, down the beach. The water was emerald green and sparkling bits of diamond played amoung the small waves. I would see those gentle, playful fingers of water turn to fiercesome swells that foamed with fury during Hurricane Gustav. However, that was in the future, and this first meeting with the Shores was one of mutual adoration and every bit as winsomely innocent as any first love. I walked to the waters edge, shedding sneakers and socks, rolling up pants leg. The water was warm, and it reached for me, healing every hurt, every bruise on skin and soul. "I love this place." I have never stopped saying it. Tiger told me later I must have said it at least 100 times that first day. I remember feeling that I never wanted to leave. It's hard to explain the magick of it. I've been to many beaches, though I'm not a 'beach person'. I would rather roam forests and exotic wild places than lay upon a beach, cooking in the sun during summer. But this was different. It had something, perhaps it was the magick of tiny grey sandcrabs that as the sun set began to emerge like inchlong grey ghosts and race to the water's edge, dissapearing into unseen holes as I got too close, so that I felt it an optical illusion. Perhaps it was the way the sun began to descend, slowly, coloring the sky with an artist palate of pink and yellow, purple and blue. Or maybe it was something that combinded to dance it's spiral across my life with a certainty that has never been before....or since. The Shores are Home. I have never wanted to leave. I know at times now how Adam and Eve must have felt, banished as they were from Eden. I've never been one to 'make the best of things'. Well, I guess I have, but it does not make being away from Gulf Shores any easier. So every day, a lesson, here, in New York. Not one I'm content in, but one that it appears is still in some way on some other level important. As in my heart and soul I stand upon fine sand and gaze out at an endless horizon, watching Pelicans....those funny birds....glide gracefully just above the water at dusk or dawn. Your soul will know when you find your Soulmate. And your Soul will aways, with an inner certainty, lead you Home.