The sun is a gray muted ball lying behind a blanket of fog which also is covering the marsh and most of the street. The air is damp and sticks to my bare legs. At least it’s warm and the cold winds of yesterday are somebody else’s problem. I bend and do some squats before sprinting away. As is my custom I turn to wave to Goddess who is staring at me from her perch upstairs. She’ll continue to watch until I return.
The fog breaks just enough for me to see about ten feet in front of me and I can feel it close behind me. High Powered Rock and Roll is blasting in my ears in contrast to the ambiance and Manfred Mann is telling me about “Princess cards and bar room eyes that shine vacancy.
It fits my mood.
My mind starts to drift like it does during every run. A stream of consciousness projects one image after another on the screen in my head. Fog has been my life for the better part of a year.
When I hit soft sand of the beach I remember the Polar Bear Plunge a few years ago. On New Year’s Day on Tybee a crowd of us gather to sober up in the cold waters of January. A lot of people wear costumes. There were two women the last time that I did it who wore their wedding dresses. I thought that was a great way to put the past behind you.
Immediately after laughing at them, Justin from Breakfast Club showed wearing mesh black panties and a Chef’s hat. It was not a pretty sight. When he saw me he burst into a full run and tackled me throwing me into the sand landing on top of me. It really wasn’t a pretty sight as wallowed like a pig with me underneath!!!
He was pretty wasted so as my friends tried to get him off he would go limp like a child. The whole time he was spitting in my ear, “I love you Rev. I love you Rev.”
It was disgusting.
Finally my friends got him off of me. (Well, not Johnny O! He was taking pictures which are now posted on his Face Book page.)
I hit the shore of the mouth of the Back River on the south end of Tybee which is my favorite part of the beach. I slow down to enjoy the views of Little Tybee, where the ocean flows into a river, the sand bars at low tide covered with seagulls, and the ocean itself which is flat and calm this morning.
Peter, Paul and Mary are now telling me how they’d rather be in love. I nod and agree.
In the distance, I see a massive beam of white light burst through the fog sprinkling the ocean with diamonds. Ahead on the beach another streak of sunshine throws off its blanket and gray sand is immediately transformed into white. These things are in the distance as the fog holds on to me.
Lines from messages that I’ve gotten over the last couple of days run through my mind as the sweat starts to pour down my face. “You’re writing has gotten lighter.”
“You’re coming out of the cave.”
“I cannot tell you how much seeing and hearing you happy thrills me … you have that a lot lately … your voice … your face …your eyes.”
“I really want you to think of you …sometimes we all take you for granted … laying our shit on you and not thinking that you need a shoulder.”
Uncle Cracker is helping me to smile and when I do the fog is burned away and the eye of God blazes at me like the sun.
Goddess greets me and I grab the Gator Aid and her leash. We walk to Shirley’s sad little holy dock and review the marsh for the first time as it stands naked in front of us. Below the sea of brown dead marsh I can see the green of the marsh that is to come. Fran is getting ready to dance. New is coming not as an adjective but as a noun.
I hold up the last of the Gator Aid and have Communion by myself with God.
Then Goddess and I walk home and I baptize myself in the holiness of the outdoor shower.
And God’s grin is brilliant like a thousand suns.
