Head in the Clouds, Feet in the Sand

I have never been a huge beach person. It's sweltering hot, there are people everywhere, and you'll find sand from one trip years down the road. The appeal just never hit me like it does most people. I much prefer the weather of England, rain and all, but the recent trip has left me pondering if I haven't found the right fit for a beach. Maybe I was wrong because the closest access to a beach is grainy hot sand and dirty water that is full of algae half the time.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

It started on Wednesday June 24th with my grandmother passing away in her sleep. She had been suffering from stage four Alzheimer's and, in a way, it was a relief to know that the struggle was finally over for her. My family had been preparing for this and the only things that really needed to be done was to get everyone to Florida for the funeral. It wasn't going to be a big affair, just my parents, siblings, aunt, uncle, two cousins and a cousin-in-law. There were ten of us in all. By Friday, we had our tickets purchased. By Monday, we were in the air.

It wasn't going to be a long trip so I tried to bask in the little moments. My family hasn't gotten to go on a vacation together in years. We each have responsibilities now and it was nice to just be a family again. My older brother and I tend to be a bit more mischievous around each other, though it's totally his fault. He breathes mischief and brings it out of me. I'm the victim here...anyways.

I also enjoy flying. I love the feeling you get when the plane is taking off. I love getting above the clouds and finding a whole new world in the valleys and mountains made of insubstantial matter. Part of me wishes there was some way I could stick my hand out as we go through clouds. My mind says it would just make me wet but my eyes see a world of possibilities. I love seeing my home in a different view, watching as cities and farms are mapped out on the land. Worries seem a bit farther away when you're 32,000 feet in the air from civilization.

Then we landed in Florida and the whirlwind of a "vacation" never stopped. The funeral was scheduled for Tuesday and our flight home was Wednesday. It wasn't enough time to do everything that could possibly be done. Disney World was out of the question (unfortunately. I will get there some day though!) so that left the beach and maybe some shopping. Our hotel was a five minute or less walk to the beach on Cocoa Beach, Florida. It was a pretty small town and much different than my Texas home. Everything smelled like fish and people weren't in much of a rush to get anywhere. The prices were significantly higher and all the buildings were made out of cinder block.

With our days booked, that left evenings and mornings free. I spent the two evenings we had on the beach and loved it. The day was cooler at that time the sand felt soft and cool to my feet and, thankfully, there weren't that many people on the beach itself. I never actually got in the water, but walking down the shoreline was more than enough. I never realized how much I could enjoy the beach. Going in the cool of the evening meant never getting sunburned, meant never having to squint against the glare of the sand and the water, meant never having to deal with throngs of chattering people cluttering up the air.

I enjoyed it so much, I woke up before six in the morning to see the sunrise on the water. I spent an hour watching the waves and letting the water hitting legs. In the distance, I could see pelicans diving in and out of the water for breakfast. I wish I could have stayed in the moment longer, but all too soon it was time to go home.

I Like Big Books and I Cannot Lie

So, it's been awhile since my last post. If it's any consolation, I've thought about writing...a lot. Then I get to this page and my mind goes blank. As summer is dwindling, I've decided to take up my keyboard again and write a post.

The subject of course is books. I cannot get enough of the written word. My summer, since I have been unemployed, has been spent diving into various worlds and adventures with my favorite characters. By the time I return to school, I will have read at least nineteen books of various length.

Most people think I'm crazy that way, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

When I was a kid, I remember being asked if would I rather be blind or deaf. It was a simple question. If I had to choose then I would choose being deaf any day. My vehement response as a child hasn't changed much. While I would miss music and hearing people talk and listening to the rain, I would miss reading more. I cannot fathom a world without stories.

I am not a passive reader.

Reading is life altering to me. Reading takes me away from the worries and stresses of my life to worlds of adventure and intrigue. Reading shows me new creatures and new places to explore. Reading lets me see things beyond this world. Reading teaches me.

I believe in the characters whose stories I read.

I cry and I rage and I fight for the characters. I hurt and I weep and I argue for the characters. Characters like Harry Potter, Meliara, Danica Shardae, Percy Jackson, Eragon and so many more are not just names, not just letters arranged on the page. These are characters that I have come to know and love. Characters that I may never see in real life, but nevertheless they have made an impact on my life; they have become part of my life.

I am a bibliophile and oh so proud of it.

So, do the world a favor. Shut off the internet for an afternoon. It will be there tomorrow. Take a novel and find a comfy spot, whether it be the beach, the porch or your favorite armchair, and lose yourself to the power of writing. You won't regret it, I promise.

The Fragrance of a Flower

Thursday afternoon, as I was walking to work, something happened that hadn't happened in a long time. I felt inspired to put up another blog post because of a tiny second in my day. It was a rather insignificant moment. No one was around me. It was a mildly warm day for winter. It had been stressful with school and work and I was trying to get in a more postive outlook before going into work.

Then a smell hit my nose for the briefest of moments. I knew that smell.

For a split second I caught a whiff of the same smell I grew acustomed to in London walking through the small park by our hostel. I love that smell. I never found the flowers that produced such a fragrance but that just made me crave it more. I don't really know what caused me to smell it here. It's winter in Texas. Nothing grows. The grass is yellow, the trees are bare, and the only somewhat fragrant thing nearby would be the school gym, which isn't excatly pleasant. But for that split second, I knew I had smelled it.

Of course the moment I tried discovering the scent, it disappeared. It had a tremendous effect, whether it was an illusion or not. I felt relaxed and calm; a feeling that had escaped me since school started. I felt like I was back in London in the small park, the small piece of green countryside in the middle of cold gray buildings. It gave me just enough momentum to carry my day forward.

The scent brought back memories as well. It's been a year since my flight left for London. This time last year I was fighting my way through London traffic and getting used to the time difference. I miss it. I miss the way the city is imbued with history and stories just waiting to be told. I miss everyday tasks like getting food at Waitrose or catching the Tube or the bus. I miss the sense of adventure that you get when you're in a foriegn country; as if there's something exciting waiting for you if only you're brave enough to find it. I miss the countryside. I miss Scotland and its hairy coos. I even miss having toast and jam in the mornng in the small kitchen of our hostel, looking out the window at the small courtyard in the back.

But beyond just missing it, I hope to go back. Not as a tourist or a student, just a traveler waiting to see what the city and country has in store for them.