Wednesday, December 21, 2005
The gourmet dinner of shaman-cooked lamb chops, the chocolate confection cake, a stellar antique ring…several (20?) bottles of lovely red wine…a smashing poker match in which the Uzbek proved to be ruthless AND competitive…LOTS of kids underfoot, overfoot and in the air…a long lovely dock leading to the lapping salted mysterious water…an island named after an Indian tribe…birds, ancient exotic Audubon perfectionism…egrets, osprey, cranes, and gigantic blue herons…day trips to the ocean…paying homage…standing at the licking curling foam flecked edges in awe…
Ian chasing seagulls…all capped by the most amazing and wonderful ranger in the world who educated us on the convoluted inner workings of conch shells and whelks…he fished into the tank for a spider crab… Nick cradled a hermit crab in his hand I wish I could have a hermit crab…the ranger said that scientists extract the blood of horseshoe crabs to test the purity of medicines…the blood has magical congealing powers…its blood is its immune system…crab blood…I told Ian to say “thank you” to the ranger and Ian just stared at him shyly…the ranger said, “His smile alone says 'thank you'”…I loved the ranger…he was so kind…and we all became his rapt students, a collective field trip studying bones and shells and evolution and natural selection…the inherent puzzles of mollusks, crustaceans, sand, dunes, wind, sun and rain.
Happy Birthday Sheesh!
Oh, and P.S., our bedroom had knotty pine cathedral ceilings and a skylight...I lay in bed looking at the moon, incongruous and elegant, and I thought how nice it was to be warm in bed (instead of camping or something), and looking at the moon. Cue Cat Stevens... |
Cynicism is another word for reality