The adventurous trip home...

The Hampton Inn in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia--some 30 miles north of Richmond--is the midway point between Connecticut and Oak Island. 361 miles from Oak Island and 363 miles from Connecticut. Can't get more 'half-way' than that.

So that's where we stop going and coming, to break up what would be a 12 hour journey straight through.

Since we left the beach early, we got to the motel around 4, though, since we are all over 60, we stop to pee quite often....

After an early dinner, the plan was to leave around 6 a.m. so there would be plenty of time for me to pick up Bela at the Kennel between four and five. And so we did and somewhere in Maryland, John's GPS was predicting we'd get to New Haven, where our car was, around one p.m. All was well and all was well and all manner of things were well.

We stopped in Maryland to get coffee and pee and then again around mile 80 of the New Jersey Turnpike to pee and get a light snack, it still being well before noon. Five miles later, adventure began!

(I could have called this post, "the trip home from hell"--which, if you look at it cynically, it certainly could have been. But cynicism is a dead end that is a hell all itself. I prefer to find 'adventure' rather than tragedy in the vicissitudes of life. You can't avoid them, after all, so why make a big fat 'drama' out of them when it's just as easily seen as something out of an action/adventure movie?)

At mile post 85.5 of the NJ Turnpike, the serpentine belt of John's Land Rover broke and failed. I remember the exact place because we were suddenly on a shoulder of the Turnpike that barely contained the Land Rover and from the front seat passenger seat I was staring at the mile marker. John called AAA and was told they couldn't service breakdowns on the Turnpike but transferred him to the Turnpike Authority that dispatched a truck that arrived within 20 minutes. The driver was delightful and packed Bern, Sherry, John and me into his cab for the two exit ride to what I believe was Perth Amboy, NJ, though I have no comprehension of NJ geography. He set John's car down in a shopping center where AAA could come and get it.

The second tow truck arrived within half-an-hour and was going to tow John's car to his mechanic in New Haven. John has super-duper AAA service and the 105 mile tow as going to cost him only $12! Someone had to ride with the driver and John suggested I go since I would get to New Haven and my car in time to go get the dog.

Andrew, another friend in New Haven, agreed to drive to Perth Amboy and pick up the other three folks from the deserted island of a Walmart shopping center. (Imagine that--Andrew agreed, without hesitation, to drive 2 hours + to pick up the stranded adventurers! That is a friend indeed, perhaps a saint for the lost castaways....)

So, Jim the tow truck driver (actually it was a flatbed truck, not a truck with and hook) and I sat off on the next stage of the adventure. We doubtless passed Andrew going the other way but never knew it ('ships in the night/adventure' and all that).

Jim and I enjoyed the ride and I got to New Haven at 3:15 where Jack, Sherrie's husband (another friend indeed) picked me up at John's mechanics and helped me move the luggage from the Land Rover to Jack's aging Volvo and take the luggage and me to Jack's, where my car waited.

I got to the dog in plenty of time and after he almost knocked me down with gratitude for his rescue we went home to wait for Andrew's rescued souls.

I got home at five and Andrew got the crew of wrecked ship "Land Rover" back to New Haven a short time after. (Bern told me he actually thanked them for 'the adventure' since he was reading some Yale graduate student papers and couldn't wait to drive to Perth Amboy and back....a saint-in-waiting, at least.)

So I drove down to New Haven and got Bern and we came home--just like those two pigeons in the last two posts...we came home.

The dog is 'home' and the cat and the bird (cared for while we were gone by our high school senior next door neighbor, were there already, waiting for Bern and me).

I have a real affinity to our two North Carolina pigeons. Home is where you feel safe, where they have to love you, where you are meant to sit down and BE. Just that...'be'.

The adventure is over. We will tell the tale to ourselves and others over and again as the years pass--embellishing greatly, all taking credit for great calmness in adversity, each of us, in our own way, sharing a bit of the limelight of hero and heroine.

What a way to 'come home'!

And how good it is to 'be here', at last, 'at home'.....

The birdies, redux

I packed my laptop on Friday afternoon so I didn't get to tell you about the return of the pigeons.

I thought I'd seen the pigeons up on the roof of the house during the day but, as it is, one pigeon looks pretty much like another.

But 4 of us were out reading in the gazebo about 5 pm and., lo and behold, they came back to their spot on the banister of the gazebo! Bern tried giving them crackers and grapes and watermelon, which they equally ignored though they let her get right beside them to off them the food. After our dinner, their mom came to feed them on the gazebo roof. They followed her around and generally annoyed her until she finished her task and flew away.

Back to their 'home' on the banister they came and spent the night huddled together even through a monsoon type rain at about 5:30 that woke most of us up.

They were gone when we left at 8:30 or so to head out--Mimi and Tim to Williamsburg and the rest of us to our midway motel in Stofford/Aquita, Virginia.

I don't worry about them as much as yesterday and the day before, but I do wonder how many days they'll come back to the gazebo banister before they move on.

And I hope they stay together, whenever they find a new 'home'. I think of them as brother and sister since one is slightly smaller than the other. But who knows about the gender of pigeons....

The Birdies...

Yesterday, in the early afternoon, two fledgling pigeons landed on the deck railing of the little gazebo near the steps down to the sand, and didn't leave. From time to time, one or the other of them would flutter up to the roof the the structure and flap around confused. They must have come from a nest hidden up there and couldn't figure out how to get into it. We'd seen older pigeons fly up there and disappear.

So the two of then sat on the railing. They were so young that they had no fear of us and one walked right up to where Mimi was sitting and seemed to be trying to communicate something. All afternoon and into the evening, they stayed there, huddled together most of the time, waiting...for what I don't know.

Bern gave them a bowl of water and they seemed as content as pigeons get what with their head bowing and all. Siblings, I'm sure, and staying close together.

The reason you never see 'baby' pigeons is that they stay in the nest longer than most any other bird. These two obviously weren't used to being out too much and hung around until it was totally dark. I went to be about 11 and they were still there, wing to wing, cooing softly.

This morning they were gone--some instinct clicked in and they must have flown away together.

Just a few minutes ago, sitting on the deck, I looked up to the roof of the house and saw several pigeons sitting there, as they are wont to do. The two to the right, I was sure, were our two birds, smaller than the others and sitting nestled against each other.

I started to point them out to everyone but I had fretted about the two birds more than anyone and thought the other humans would think I was getting soft in the head if I kept catching glimpses of those two birds.

Tomorrow we leave and drive north. By this time (3:30 or so) we'll be well into Virginia and looking for the exit for out motel. Sunday, we'll be home. Those two pigeons, if God is kind, will still be here, growing up.

I'll think of them from time to time. But even I am not sentimental enough to imagine they might think of me....

No more Mister Nice Ocean

For most of the time we've been here, the Atlantic has been rather like and endless lake with one or two foot waves. This morning it turned ugly.

Some storm far out at sea or a ten mile an hour increase in the wind from the south--which ever--there have been 3 to 5 foot whitecaps crashing one after another as the tide comes in.

The ocean giveth and the ocean taketh away....

Congregations of Sea Birds

Tim and I were watching a couple of dozen of seabirds (different kinds of gulls, sandpipers, some smaller birds) standing on the beach, all looking in the same direction. This is not unusual here on Oak Island. Yesterday I walked a mile to the west and back and saw three such gatherings. The groupings can be 10 or 12 or upwards of 50--standing on the beach, all looking in the same direction.

I am confused and confounded by this behavior. It's like these congregations of birds say to each other, "hey, let's all stand on the beach and look in the same direction for no particular reason to confuse and confound the humans!"

And they all agree that's a wonderful idea.

And it works.

Tim and I just looked at each other and shook our heads, confused and confounded.

Three sleeps...

One of the most disconcerting things about a one week vacation is that people start thinking about it ending long before it ends.

At dinner tonight, one of our number said, 'only two more days'...alas.

The thing is, there are two reasons I don't think like that: I'm no good at linear time and have to think real hard to figure out how many days are left and,  every wonderful day here means I'm one day closer to getting home to my Puli.

It is embarrassing to admit how much I miss our dog. I haven't had a good night's sleep because when I wake up at home, I reach over and rub him and go back to sleep. (Sleep with me, sleep with my dog....) Here, he's not there to rub.

John and Bern and I have been talking about coming for two weeks next fall. The only thing that remains to work out is bringing Bela. It would involve drugging him to the gills, finding a pet friendly motel somewhere in the middle of Virginia and actually committing to what would be required to bring that awful dog we love so much.

When our children were small, we never came for less than three weeks--a couple of times for a month.

That kind of time at the ocean puts you in touch with the deep down rhythms of human beings. You start going to bed earlier and getting up earlier. You lose track of what day it is (I do that because of age now, so being at the ocean for a month would completely un-stick me in time. You eat when you are hungry instead of at 'meal times'. You begin to roll like the ocean.

One reason I'm glad I don't live on a beach by an ocean is that I fear I'd come to take it for granted and not notice anymore how healing the waters' rolling truly is.

Two more glorious days, two days of travel with  people I love. And then I'll go get Bela!

All that sounds great to me....

Pelicans and a south facing beach

Long Beach, one of the three beaches on Oak Island, NC, faces south. Yaupon Beach faces East and Fort Caswell Beach faces north-east.

A south facing beach has the sun rise on your left, as you look out toward Cuba, and crosses overhead until it sets on your right. So, the sun is never directly in your eyes as you look at the Atlantic. It does heat you on both sides during the day.

We put up the state flag of West Virginia, as we do except when I forget to bring it, and it blows north almost all day. There are no insects here because the wind blows them inland. When the breeze comes from the north, go inside because the insects from the inlets and marshes of the island will be blown down to the beach! But that seldom happens.

Pelicans breed here. I didn't see many the first day or two, but today they are back: large, solemn, stately, flying in formations of 5 to 9 up and down the beach and diving for fish out in the water with a grace such a large, odd bird shouldn't possess.

I love Pelicans...would like to be one for a few hours but wouldn't agree to that for fear my avian mind would take over and I'd forget to come back....