The Wrack Line

I open my eyes and I'm on a stretch of empty beach; it's cool, the waves are small, but incessant, the fog has lifted enough so I can see the horizon. It's not a day that anyone typically thinks of when they imagine a day at the beach, but it's my kind of day. The cool, damp air sharpens the salty smell of the sea and instead of dancing around on hot sand, I can stand and watch the waves' foam cover my feet, retreat, and leave puddles as I step ahead. And I can explore the 'wrack line' alone.

I read about the wrack line in an article written by a woman who collects sea beans (sea beans, Mary's beans, sea hearts-- subjects for a future blog!). I've never heard of the wrack line...where the tide deposits kelp, driftwood, a stray flip-flop, plastic bottles....but I've walked it many times. When I looked up 'wrack' in my dictionary, sure enough it's defined as marine vegetation, kelp, something driven by the sea. At high tide, the sea leaves its flotsam and jetsam on the wrack line for me to explore. Who knows what treasures I might find?

Walking the jagged edge between high and low tide, my senses are overwhelmed by the sea. Here, mixed with the smell of drying kelp, the fragrance of the ocean is even more pungent. My toes recoil from the feel of slippery seaweed, its big, slimy bulbs squishing between them as I walk. Tendrils of the sea plants reach out to encircle my ankles. The air even tastes salty here. There's no hurry, and I can take my time, searching the tangled seaweed for a bit of glass tumbled and polished by the sea and sand, a piece of smooth driftwood or an special shell. And I think of a quote that is pinned to my bulletin board: "My life is like a stroll on the beach...as near to the edge as I can go." (Henry David Thoreau)

We'll come back soon....

California Dreamin'

While enjoying a birthday pedicure yesterday....ah-h-h bliss!!....I was engaged in a lively conversation with my friends. Karen is a nursing colleague; her daughter, Holly, is a PhD candidate at Yale (something about sea birds) and also a birthday girl this day. We talked about wine, Paris, Holly's research adventures in New Zealand, good restaurants, on and on. But the conversation wound around to California. Holly did her undergrad at Santa Cruz and Karen did a travel nurse assignment there as well. Karen remarked that she was so excited to talk with a student in one of her trauma nursing classes because he was from Santa Cruz and they could talk about California! Soon we were chattering about all the things we loved about my home state.

What a switch from what I usually say to people about California! Iget so tired of defending it..."I really resent that remark about California being the 'land of fruits and nuts;' I'm from there and I am neither!!" And..."No, all those people moving here from California are NOT ruining your state...I moved here from California and I'm an asset!" It's a beautiful state, full of diversity. Flawed, to be sure, and over-crowded, over-priced, and over-the-top in a lot of ways. But after living in the Rocky Mountains and now in Iowa, I appreciate its mostly gentle weather, mostly perpetual sunshine, and general good mood. Sure...it gets foggy, there are droughts, the Santa Ana winds are horrendous, but so are tornadoes, ice storms, muggy days and blizzards! And those Midwest weather events are so much harder to deal with.

We all agreed that one of the things we loved most about California was its beaches. From its warm, smooth sandy beaches in San Diego to its rough, rocky, chilly beaches in the north, the sea adds an element of mystery to California's allure. I close my eyes, I breathe deeply, I listen....I can feel, hear and smell the ocean...

More on that tomorrow!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my birthday, and I've been thinking a lot about age lately. Like do calendar years really equate with physical, emotional, or spiritual years? and how old to I feel exactly? I think 37, maybe 40...what do you mean, I'm 61 years old today? That simply can't be!!

I guess the question is: at what age is someone supposed to stop having dreams and goals and plans or at least modify them to accommodate stiff knees, sagging skin, and squinting to see in the dark? Here's my answer: it's much, much older than 61!!

Two years ago my brother, Walt, sent me a birthday card which I've kept posted where I can see it everyday. Here's what he wrote at the bottom..."Remember 59 is a good number. '59 was the year of Dad's first new car (remember that one?) So, just think of yourself as a classic getting more valuable every year." Who else but Walt can compare me to an old car...and make me feel cherished? And for the record...that new 1959 automobile was a luscious red Chevy convertible! Who could complain about being compared to that?

Happy Birthday to me!!!

Christmas Cards

One of the really cool things about Christmas is receiving Christmas cards from all over the country. Each and every one is cherished and unlike a lot of other people, I truly enjoy reading your Christmas letters!! The other thing I enjoy is the variety of card designs. This variety is so perfectly illustrated by the cards I received from my brothers, Jim and Walt. If you know them, you identified which brother sent which card without reading the captions!

Jim's card is deep and beautiful and reflects his love of the outdoors and the environment. It perfectly represents my kind, caring and gentle brother. Walt's card is full of his passion and enthusiasm for life. He's the kind of guy who would do absolutely anything for you....all you need to do is ask. He loves his cars, his girls, and his country music! I am so blessed to have two wonderful brothers who have enriched my life and always been there when I needed them.

I didn't take a picture of the cards my Dad sent. It's not the picture that's important in them; it's the message. He always looks and looks until he finds one that has the most lovely and the most touching message. And it always seems like someone wrote it just for me! I know they cost a fortune, but I'm so glad he sends them. It's like getting a big hug and kiss through the mail.

Merry Christmas

It's Christmas morning at Red Bell Farm....clear, cold, and white. Last Saturday's snow covers everything and hides the brown, frozen ground as well as all the many branches and twigs that still litter the yard from the giant ice storm two weeks ago. I'll have my work cut out for me next spring when I have to rake them all up to mow!



What's this blog all about? It's about me and my thoughts...things I want to be able to share with family and friends. All those people that I love and care about who live far from me...or do I live far from them? Like Dean, the postmaster, says every time I mail a package..."Evelyn, don't you know anyone who lives close? You mail things all over the country!" I think I make his day a bit more interesting, tho. He's always puzzled by Zimbabwe..has to look it up each time.



I'm inspired to do this by my creative friend, Randi. For a treat, check out her blog...www.6dukes.blogspot.com. It's amazing! How a stay-at-home mom with 4 kids (including a set of 21-month old twins), who home schools, does crafts, is active in her church and with her friends finds time to blog every day is beyond me! But I decided if she can do it, so can I. Maybe not every day. Check back often. tho!