Strolling out the door marked "Exit Only" I pass the line waiting to enter and I see them wondering why I'm leaving just as the famous restaurant is opening.
Nodding their way I either hop in my truck parked where they're waiting or next door to Helen's driveway where my bicycle rests against her porch, and make my way to the sun rising over the ocean.
If I'm in a hurry I take a left passed Sean and Wynn's house and scurry on home.
If I'm not, I take a right meandering down front, wave at Jerry the "Animal Control Officer" ... (what happened to Dog Catchers?) ... make my way down one of the lanes or alleys stuffed full of vacation rentals and apartments ... take a right on Butler Avenue ... (which is somehow also called the Korean War Memorial Highway though I rarely see any Koreans on it)... passed hotels, bars and restaurants.
Along the way I pass early morning joggers, power walkers, stumblers wondering what happened to the night, philosophers sitting still drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes while staring into space but they all disappear when I make the turn on 13th Street.
13th Street is only a few blocks long, has a rich canopy of lush sub-Tropical trees, ending in the Marsh with spectacular views of the Back River, Wilmington Island and mind numbing sunsets.
I'm heading west so the sun's over my shoulder and deep shadows sprinkled with dancing sparkles of light blanket the road.
It takes my breath away every single day.
It's magical about this time of morning ... the sun bubbling out of the Sea, the lushness of the trees, the heat of the morning, the smell of the Marsh and the tranquility of the Back River.
Today I'm in a hurry because Sarah asked me to make certain she's up and ready for work so I wave at Sean and Wynn's house, speed on down Butler, hang a fast curve on 13th and ... stop.
I'm not sure if the Garden of Eden was any better because it's pretty amazing.
Art lives at the end of the street so I say a prayer for him, inhale the pungent aroma of the Marsh at Low Tide ... the smell of sex in the Tropics ... and wonder how many more days I get to be blessed by this.
Then I rush home to make sure Sarah's up and moving, fix her coffee, start getting my day in order, admire my wife when she strolls into the kitchen and in a nanosecond ... the day has stuffed out the morning.
Sarah leaves ... the phone rings ... the cell phone buzzes without ceasing ... Goddess wants to wander in and out the sliding glass doors ... I can't believe the number of emails ... four different people want me to do four different things right now and I try to prioritize ... rubbing my hands over my head they're full of hair when I start typing again.
"Ahhhh," I sigh.
It's Hump Day and I wish you a nice one.
I think Goddess is taking me for a walk to remind me how precious it all is.
