A long time ago, we visited Florida. It was the Gulf side, Longboat Key, to be exact. It was January. We wandered around St. Armand’s circle and I remember gazing longingly through the window of a realtor’s office, where listings of homes-for-sale were taped. (Long before the days of Zillow – one of my fav real estate apps!) I can remember the feeling of longing, of how great would it be if we actually lived here? but accepted it as a pipe dream. We packed up and went back to the gray and snowy midwest and four more months of that weather, a day or two later. We’re just not winter sports people.
Now, we’ve been here eleven years. We love living at the beach. Every single time I come across the walkway to the sands of ‘my beach’, it’s a different landscape. And every time, I feel a glee of excitement that I get to live here.
This is yesterday. I read my book for a while, then took a snooze. A few of my son’s friends probably saw me, sacked out in my chair, as they were polite enough to say HI when they came out to the beach too.
What a great, great day it was yesterday. Perfect temps, perfect water, pretty birds. And I get to live here.