St Augustine has a lighthouse. We saw it.
Ya know, I love being near the water. I lived most of my life in Milwaukee — a stone’s throw from Lake Michigan (If you have a really, really good arm). I’m accustomed to the benefits and drawback of “cooler near the lake.” I grew up with lake effect snow. I’m used to spending weekends people watching along the shore.
So then why is it that the ocean does not hold the same appeal? Why is it that I seem able to take it or leave it — and that I really don’t care much for the effects of salt spray on moving metal parts.
All the while we were on the Oregon Coast we didn’t spend much time at the beach, or on the dunes. Last year when we were in S. Texas we made a lot of trips over to S. Padre Island but we didn’t spend our time there on the beach or fishing or boating. And… we were 20 miles away from the ocean so as not to have issues with the salt spray.
One of the reasons we like these exploring road trips is that it gives us a chance to brainstorm; to mull over our plans, to mull over our goals and accomplishments. For some reason there’s nothing like the the hum of the tires on the road to lend to good conversation.
It’s a great time to talk about one’s reflections on the sea. Or on whether we like it here in the South. Or what we might do next winter. Or how long it might be until our Grand-One gets married. All good topics of conversation; that don’t have pre-defined answers; that are important to us but not requiring an immediate commitment.
I don’t know about other people but when we were scant days before our wedding I was freaking about about something quite silly. I was worried that after we were married for a while that we would run out of things to talk about. After 6 months or a year how could you not have talked about everything of importance? Or by the time 10 years had passed could there possibly be anything new to talk about? Or after 25 years had passed could there be anything that had not been hashed over and over and over until it had been smashed to smithereens?
How can it be that after 47 years we still find things to talk about. I can’t honestly say that it’s because we’re old and we can’t remember what we’ve talked about before! though Im’ sure there are 20-somethings who might propose that response.
Lighthouses were supposed to guide the ships. That bright light gave them a known and safe reckoning point. Sometimes I think conversation serves the role of lighthouse in a marriage. Two parties constantly sending out a beam of ideas. There’s a comfort to being within range of those ideas. One knows where they are. One is aware of the dangers but the dangers don’t matter because the light — the conversation — helps us stay on a steady course towards whatever we’ve set our hearts on.
Yeah — I like lighthouses. Real ones. And I like the conversation that accompanies a steady partner who’s always there and always willing to shine as a light in a dark place.
Thanks for stopping by and I’ll talk with you tomorrow.