reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: boardwalk


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today. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

i just scrolled past a winnie the pooh meme. “what day is it?” asked pooh. “it’s today,” squeaked piglet. “my favorite day,” said pooh.

we went back.

we bushwhacked through the overgrown woodsy area to make our way under the big fallen branch and onto the beach. “our special beach” we called it. we couldn’t wait to get there – to this spot of sand and pebbled shoreline that rarely had any visitors.

we emerged from under the big fallen branch and stepped onto the sandy overlook to see a beach full of people, full of jetskis and motorized rafts, boats anchored in the water, waverunners zooming in and out of the new jettied cove.

wow.

we stood for a moment, taking it all in.

for this was the place we went to for quiet. this was the place we searched for hagstones. this was the place we sat on big pieces of wild driftwood, watching the waves come in, the waves retreat. the place to reflect, sort, breathe.

we stood for a few more moments, trying to grok it, decide what to do.

we took a walk on the shore where the waves meet the sand. it was clear a lot of work had been done on this beach. and we had to agree that it was truly beautiful, even in its changed state. we walked south and then back north. and we found that – all along – there was a parking lot that led to the beach. all along there was an easier way in. all along there was access. go figure.

as we walked south, with the waves lapping our feet – in the exquisite way that feels on a soft sandy beach – we remembered the other days we had spent there. beautiful, peaceful days. we talked about how grateful we were for those days.

and then we walked north.

we took the road past the marina and stepped onto the boardwalk. we hadn’t ever gone this way before.

the boardwalk wound its way past all the slips, around the yacht club, past the charters. on a most gorgeous day we delighted in this new place to stroll. the sting of the busy-ness of the beach faded and we planned on returning to “our beach” later – maybe a late evening, maybe in september. in the meanwhile, this stroll was the loveliest thing.

“what day is it?” i asked david, a little lost in time having been under the weather for over a week and just starting to feel better.

“it’s today,” he replied.

“ahhh…our favorite day,” we agreed.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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board by board. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

it is a distinct sound – footfall on boardwalk. and somewhere in there, echoic memory rises. and crab meadow, sunken meadow, fire island, hilton head, atlantic city all fly to the front of my mind. even a boardwalk on a vegetation-dense mountain trail in pisgah national forest. anywhere my feet had hit the boards, with that hollow suspended-above sound.

and as we start to cross the marsh on this trail on the lake michigan coast, i want to slow down, to revisit each of those other places.

i’ve spent an inordinate amount of time on crab meadow beach’s small boardwalk. it’s the place i’d stop and empty the sand from my shoes after long walks on the beach. it’s the place – other than the tree in my growing-up side yard – where i did the most life-processing.

every other boardwalk elicits particular viewmaster frames etched in my memory. the planter’s peanuts store on atlantic city’s boardwalk when i was kid, my planter’s peanut pencil clutched in my hand. fire island lighthouse exploration as a late teen, blankets and coppertone in the dunes. hilton head island and treasured family time. a christmas hike in the north carolina mountains.

the limbic system kicked in the moment my feet hit the boards. and i pause in conversation, remembering. it’s like a kaleidoscope of images, a mix-up of boarded walkways.

our deck makes noise too. as you walk across, it creaks, giving up its age, telling tales of tiny children, family dinners, dance parties, ukulele rehearsals, quiet happy hours, silent time on the steps spent staring, watching the grass grow, treasured dogs-through-time napping. it has seen sparklers and bubbles, sunset skies and meteor showers, deep drifts of snow and umbrella-ed hot sun. it has earned its creaks and groans. it joins the photo album of boardwalks.

so, i go slow across the expanse over the marsh. i take my time, drinking in the tall cattails on either side. the warm humid air partners with the distinct sound of this wooden walkway and gets stored in my brain.

and one day, the next boardwalk day, whenever that is, the dopamine will rush forward as i – in the present and in magical memory – walk, step by step, board by board.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

like. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo