Monday began with the sound of waves crashing. Laying in the dark, the steady roll of the ocean carried the soft crash into the sand through our open bedroom windows. There is no better sound to regain consciousness to and while Sarah continued to sleep, I lay there appreciating it.
At The Breakfast Club I wished everyone a good morning, poured myself a cup of coffee and walked back outside. The waves are louder here because I'm just steps from the ocean. I imagine Mermaids frolicking in the surf.
Back home, I fire the computer and take my seat in the high top table on the Beloved back deck. The waves continue to sing. Opening Facebook, there's my friend and business partner Wen McNally's post. "It's getting late but I have enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the crashing waves ..."
Pausing, I listen to them as the sun rises. It's further to the south now so it misses the Palm Tree with the oyster face, coconut bra and grass skirt, choosing to rest between it and Fran's thousand shades of green.
Looking back to Facebook, my friend Leigh writes, "Good morning Outer Banks! Your sunrise was beautiful this morning. I love the sound of waves. So peaceful."
Sitting back, rubbing my fingers through my hair, the waves continue to sing drowning out the choirs of birds.
"There is something special about this Monday," I think to myself.
There is a holiness to it that's uncommon for the first day back to work. A playful peacefulness permeates.
I am five blocks from the ocean but it sounds as though the waves are kissing the shore in my back yard. A beauty drips on my bare feet and Goddess watches me carefully. Sarah is still in bed but its only seven o'clock. It strikes me that the sound of waves is the language of prayer, much purer than Church and created by God Herself.
The phone rings and I run like a banzai to get it before Sarah can hear it. It's her oldest daughter who is at school but has forgotten something. Apparently if she doesn't get, the world will come to an end.
The other side of Monday raises its ugly head. Sarah is awake. Information is exchanged. Shit suddenly starts to happen. Work has begun.
Strolling back to the deck, the waves continue to sing. Mermaids are still dancing. The sun is wearing a smile. Fran's thousand shades of green are dancing.
I'm going to stay on this side of Monday today.
Something very special is in the air.
