A walk on the beach ...

Sandpiper walking on Pensacola Beach

Where to begin? My life has always revolved around the beach. From the time I was a toddler the sand and the surf has always been a draw for me. I learned to swim not long after I learned to walk. I feel grounded, at peace, when I walk along the beach, feeling the sand between my toes, stepping into the edge of the surf, sometimes warm, sometimes cold, but always there, always soothing, always a part of me. The quest for one more exquisite seashell, the smallest sampling of nature's art. I put the shell in my already bulging pocket and walk on, then bend down to examine and pick up another. I carry seashells home with me, place them in cut-glass or wooden bowls where they have a place of honor on my numerous bookshelves, dressers, end-tables. I carry sand home on my feet and wash it off in the yard.

I live near the beach, my yard is mostly sand under the sparse grass and wispy flowers. For some reason, the great old Naval Oaks can grow in this sandy soil. The trees are nature's royalty, old and regal and I hope will last forever. The flowers I mostly grow in pots, they don't much care for the sand. Go figure. I coax them along and cherish every brightly colored bloom. The birds, who call my home their's, love the flowers. Cardinals and Blue Jays, Mockingbirds and Doves, Sparrows and Finches and Wrens hop from pot to pot, inspecting each delicate flower.

The other day a pair of Blue Birds brought their baby over and showed him how to tug free a purple petunia and carry the bloom away to play with in the crook of an old oak. Butterflies of palest white or yellow flit among my flowers and sometimes land long enough for me to get a closer look. A neighbor's black cat with yellow eyes makes her daily rounds, inspecting all my flower pots as she strolls past the front windows of my house. I live in an older house that has seen better days and now has a new life with renovations inside. Lots of windows so the birds and squirrels and lizards and turtles and frogs who live outside can check on those of us who live inside. Sometimes we change places, the lizards or frogs come in and I go out.

I love the spring and fall best here on the Florida Gulf Coast. The temperature is kinder then, the Gulf sends gentle breezes inland, the humidity is just right and my hair curls just a little. That's when my dogs, Nikki and Shani, and I spend hours out on the trellised patio, listening to the birds, enjoying the antics of the squirrels, inhaling the sweet scent of Jasmine and Gardenias or whatever else happens to be in bloom. Would I move away from the beach? Not on your life. As they say, "been there, done that." I moved inland, to Las Vegas of all places, traded the tranquil beaches for a scorching hot desert and a swimming pool and a job.

Now I have the beach back, but no job. The beach is a better choice. My husband is retired now, or at least semi-retired. He always finds something to do. We live simply, frugally, stretch out our money to the last penny every month, but it's enough, just enough to get by. We're home here by the beach. Our daughter and three young grandkids live nearby. Yes, I've finally reached probably the closest I'll ever come to paradise.

I never thought I'd stay in one place for long, I have wandering feet, you see. I've lived far and wide and traveled farther. I have thousands of memories and thousands more photos as reminders of those days. I have paintings I've done to honor the favored spots, Sedona, Red Rock Canyon, Denali, Prince William Sound, Yosemite, St. Simons Island, Key West, I could go on and on. But paradise is here, now, with my family and the beach nearby. "Views from the Beach" is a beginning, a walk along the sand and surf, a tranquil moment we can share and talk and dream ... come walk with me ... let's share our stories ... our memories our hopes and our dreams ...