After a week of not going outside, terrorized by my experience last week, I finally did the deed today. I had to wait for the humidity to go away and for my fears of a repeat of Thursday's experience to lessen.
Luckily, it was about 68 degrees, sunny, no humidity and a light breeze: my favorite kind of weather. No P-problem either.
I walked to the Town Landing beach; I wasn't going to at first because I really wasn't up for the uphill on the way back. When I had gotten that far, though, to the top of the hill by the market, I thought, How could I not? The ocean is below this hill, and I want to see the ocean.
Every time I walk down that long and winding, steep road , which has admittedly only been twice, I always think of Newport. Newport featured a much longer and steeper hill you had to get down to get to the ocean, but that first magnficient view of the ocean when you'd gotten partway down was always worth it. Same thing here, on a smaller scale.
The beach was just magnificent today. It's a very small beach that is actually the town boat launch. Today it was high tide, which I had never seen before. All the rocks and 90% of the beach were gone! The water lapped against the edge of the parking lot! It was quite a sight, and so soothing to stand there watching the waves ebb in and out.
Thank God, the second I descended into the tiny parking lot, a strong breeze descended on me. I was hoping for a breeze, and I got one. The wind made all my senses tingle and dance in delight. I love wind when it's warm out. It just makes me feel so good. After being so hot for several days, too, it felt like heaven. I just stood there and let the wind massage my body. Then I walked town the dock/pier/whatever you call it.
They had put in two new floating docks, one in the front and one on the left. Two paddle boats were tied to one. It was great fun to walk on them and feel the vibration and movement of the docks as the choppy water moved them.
Just as I was about to leave, I saw a young man and woman about to put a kayak into the water, and I stopped to watch them, surprised. I had not known you could kayak in the ocean before, and was surprised they'd do it when the water was so choppy! It reminded me of watching the kayakers on the river in Missoula.
They did extremely well - it was a double kayak and they both rowed in such unison and with such strength that you would have thought it was a machine. At first they stayed near the shore, then they went off into the distance, and I watched until I could not see them anymore.
I listened to the music on my Walkman and sat on a bench with a big smile on my face.
After about forty minutes, I left, and smiled at the two Siberian Huskies loitering on a nearby lawn while their owner mowed it. I noted with pleasure the kid in a yard playing on a pogo stick. A pogo stick, of all things! Boing, boing, boing!
The walk back seemed so much easier than the walk there, which had been something of a struggle. I almost would have stayed out longer, but I was tired by then.
I still had a smile on my face when I walked into the house. It's nice to know that there can still be some good days in the midst of all the bad. I have to remember that even if the summer is humid 70% of the time, there will still be *some * days when it is tolerable to go out (I hope).
I thought when I walked how damn lucky I was to move to a place that was not only in Maine, not only right outside Portland and 2 miles from where I grew up, but WALKING DISTANCE TO A BEACH. I mean really, what more could you want? Other than the no humidity thing, of course.
Which I still need to write about. I feel if I write about it will make me feel better and more prepared. But for some reason, perhaps the unwitting lifting of a 550 page hardcover book in a package earlier, my right shoulder and hand are hurting, a considerable amount, and it has been a challenge to even write this. So that will have to wait for another night. I will have to deal with it without the benefit of mental preparation as of yet.
Everywhere we go, there we are. I like that I have memories of past experiences that can be triggered by local things; I can experience the best of several states all at once at a local beach in Maine. And I can appreciate the details in a way I would wager many people might not.
Appreciation for detail - it's both the blessing and the curse of autism.
Words Can Hurt
8 hours ago