The beach feels kind of unreal to me, particularly this morning as the water in the bedform mirrors the soft graduation of the horizon. I woke up at 6:20. Sand ripples stipple the mirror like a texture rubbed through tinfoil. Mercury flows down the beach and into the surf. I woke up just for this. The tide left strange plants on the shore, tossed shells across the beach. Salt marsh neon on the horizon. The sand, full of tiny porcelain cups, stirs intermittently with ghost crabs.
My pockets are full of shells. Too quickly, I was drawn into this game. Eyes cast down at my feet. It reminds me of agate hunting on Superior or of hiking in the rain. When we first arrived, I picked up a piece of coral and I remembered when objects were vessels for wonder. Vistas were thrilling. Lately, I spend so much time with my head down.
But here, at the beach, a shell or a piece of coral is auspicious. A reminder of the gift that is vitality. I am 3 years old again, the last time I was in this place. Most of what I know from my last trip is through pictures, many of them taken by my Grandpa. I have his camera now, which I’m hoping will push me to look up and around a little bit more.
He died in December 2022, before Christmas. The pressure of school and travel and COVID all worked to distance me from him, both before and after his death. I moved on quickly, without really processing it. Lately, there have been more moments where I realize he is gone. I thought it would be important to think of him when I traveled to Edisto with Grace. I’m glad that I welcomed these thoughts in.
Edisto was a practice in finding significance. I want to be curious about the world and myself, just for the love of it. I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes me successful, and I know that it is not fear; of commitment, of getting it wrong, of an ideal. Reconnecting with my past self through reflection and conversations with those who know me best might provide some answers.
Part of what I want to do with this site is to use it to practice intrinsic motivation and reclaim my own attention. My goal is to be liberal with publishing and revision and see what I can create when I allow myself to be less burdened by imagined expectations and audiences. It’s valuable because I gave my attention to it. If you’re reading this, thank you for your valuable attention, whoever you are.
photo credit to Claire