Saturday

• 7:15am  Waves rolling in slow motion, sleepy and cold.  Like me.  Need more coffee.  Will watch the sunrise from my living room.
• 7:40am  Sunbella is finally up.  Only a solo beachwalker braving the nasty wind to welcome her.
• Finished editing my book yesterday.  Makes me wonder -- is it any good at all??
• Went to the Surfside writer's group meeting.  Good people, fascinating story ideas being critiqued.  I felt left out -- didn't know anything about their material and had nothing of my own to share.  Telling myself it's just the first meeting.  Go back, it'll get better.
• Eight horses on the beach today, galloping this time, not strolling.  It was high tide, not much sand to gallop on.  Good thing the beach was deserted, except for a little Beagle straining on his leash to get acquainted with the horses.
• For the first time since I've been here, I feel lost.  What am I doing here?  I have no friends, no lover, just the beach and my writing.  Maybe this desolate feeling is normal after finishing a project (my book) that I've put my heart and soul in.  Maybe the weekend is making me crazy because I have too much time and no commitments.  Funny, when I was back home I craved a free weekend all to myself, to nap and read and do anything my heart desired.  Maybe that's the question I should be asking:  when you actually get what your heart desires, what next?
• I'm not the only one escaping or dream seeking here.  Just met Kathleen from Massachusetts in the hot tub.  I've seen her every night floating in the outdoor pool, regardless of the wind whipping up white caps, looking like she's in heaven.  She's staying until March, maybe for good if she can find work, and loving it.  She didn't plan on living here, it just happened.  Everyone I've met is from somewhere else, came here for one reason or another and stayed.  When you ask how long they've been here, they seem surprised to say "six years" or "23 years," like the time just slipped up on them.     

Working for the Weekend 11/4/11

• No sunrise today, just heavy charcoal clouds rolling on the ocean.  It was warm, though, having coffee on the balcony.  No wind, moist air.  Didn't even need a sweater.
• Some sun bursts through the clouds, then back to dreary.  Getting a lot of editing done on my book.  It's a grueling process.  Feels like taking a really good look at your baby and realizing they are ugly.
• Saw dolphins doing somersaults in the waves.  I smiled. 

FITS-day 11/3/11

• Work be damned.  With a cloudless blue sky and drenching sunshine calling me, how could I refuse?  I declared this Fun In The Sun (FITS) day and spent two hours laying by the pool reading Thomas Moore's "Soul Mates" and thinking of nothing at all.  Work will still be there tomorrow when it's 63 degrees and rainy.
• 13 beautiful horses strolled down the beach.  Their riders weren't bad looking, either.  People were snapping pictures and asking to give a horse a rub.  It's mandatory on Myrtle Beach to clean up your pet's waste.  Guess horses aren't considered pets, because I had to side-step lots of humongous horse plops when I was beachwalking.  I never know what I'll see out on the beach.
• Luna Linda (Spanish for beautiful moon), what are you doing out at 3:30pm?  My SGD has seen you in the afternoon, too, back in Missouri.  And I've been missing you at night.  Are you like a baby that has her days and nights mixed up?
• How can I top off an afternoon of sunning and beachwalking?  15 minutes in the hot tub is the answer.  Don't hate me for all I'm getting to see and do.  I'd waited 49 years to live this life and I'm damn well going to enjoy it now.

Greeting the morning 11/3/11

     7:20am  41 degrees and I'm on the beach, drawn to walk the sunrise.  At times my sneaker prints are solo on the sand, sharing space with a smattering of beached jellyfish.  A line of pelicans flies low over the ocean, sometimes disappearing behind a wave, until they splat one by one onto their chosen fishing spot.  A subtle shift in the color of the sky, and it's time.  I stop.  Face Mother Ocean with lips quivering, breath hanging in the air, hands clinging to the coffee mug's remaining warmth.  A smile spreads wide across my face as Sunbella's golden light spreads across the ocean.  The waves swell to greet her.  The day begins.
     The hot shower washes away my chill, loosens my neck and shoulder tension from yesterday's editing.  A piece of peanut butter toast, a mug full of coffee, and I'm ready to write.

Wednesday thoughts 11/2/11

• Double bonus sunrise this morning.  Got to see Sunbella rise behind Mother Ocean, then rise again from behind a cloud bank.  What a show!
• At sunrise, it was 41 degrees in Myrtle, 34 degrees in Conway, only 10 miles away.  The breeze coming off the ocean makes a huge difference in the temps.  I'll take it as warm as I can get it.
• Seems odd that while it's been in the chilly 60s here, my homeys back in Missouri have been relishing the 70s of Indian summer.  My SGD even gave his yard a final mowing yesterday.  Enjoy it while you can.  Sounds like a preview of winter is coming to MO fast.  And MB is expecting the 70s to return next week.
• Needed a change of scenery while editing my book this morning, so I went to the atrium.  Can't imagine having a better place to work than being drenched by sun pouring in through the windows AND being able to look at the ocean's beauty when my mind needed a pause.
• Have I mentioned all the wonderful things about staying here at Bluewater Resort?  The staff are friendly and most helpful; the pools and hot tub are like my private spa -- hardly anyone else uses them; a guest laundry right here on site; a huge flat screen TV in the atrium with the remote at my disposal and tables/chairs/couches for lounging or working; everything is clean and manicured and lovingly cared for.  It's the perfect place to enjoy my Myrtle Beach journey.
• Later on:  Walked the beach this afternoon.  Nothing happened worth mentioning.  But this was the first day I had bare feet in a while -- no sneakers on today.  The warm sand between my toes felt so right, like having my hand held by someone I love.  Did a walking meditation with my feet in the ocean.  Life rarely gets better than this.

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What's happening on the beach 11/1/11

• Chilled and achy from pounding away too long at the keyboard, I head out beachwalking.  Let the sun warm my bones.
• I see a group around the fisherman from this morning.  He holds up a wriggling shark, dangling from his waist to foot.  The crowd snaps photos.  He flings the shark back into the waves.  Baits his hook.  Tries again.
• Step over a used condom.  That's not something I see on the beach every day, especially in this cool weather.  That must've been some kind of hot date.
• A solo wetsuited surfer hangs patiently off his board, waiting for his wave.
• Keep walking south past Springmaid Pier.  Never been that far down the beach before.  See an RV park.  Now I'm not an RVing kind of gal, not into roughing it, but I could do that.  Step out of my mini Winnie and right into Mother Ocean in the morning.
• Farther past the RV park is untamed beach.  Lush green vegetation rolling behind the sea grass, maybe even kudzu.  No hotels.  No houses.  No arcades.  Feels like a totally different Myrtle out here.
• Surfer dude was gone when I walked back.  Guess his patience gave up.
• Amazon lady struts up the beach in a bikini, turning male heads, old and young.  I follow her progress to two shivering bikinied pals, huddled together on towels.  When it's clear they aren't joining her, she struts straight into the water.  All the way in, until her hair is floating on the waves.  You go, Girl.  That's determination.

A new month, a new sunrise 11/1/11

     It still amazes me, with all the sunrises I've experienced here, that out of the darkness comes vibrant colors, intense, what I see as a tropical rainbow.  Then the intensity dims to dull gray, as if the sun will never rise.  Morning will never come.  The sun comes suddenly, splitting the gray, bringing warmth and energy and a brand new day.  Apt metaphor for life.  Hold on to those intense flashes of something good to come.  Have faith when the flashes dim and nothing happens.  When the time is right, you will see the light shining just for you, showing you the way.
     A lone fisherman stakes his poles in the sand as soon as the sun is up.  Doesn't matter that it's 41 degrees with 16 mph north winds.  He's determined to catch some fish.