Running With Anguilla. On Christmas Day.

palm-trees

“What are the winter months?”

The cab driver chuckled.  “You’ve not been to Anguilla Sir?”  He paused and continued.  “There are no winter months, Sir.”

Who you callin’ Sir? Aha. Old and stupid. 18° 15′ North – standing on the Equator. No seasons.

That was a week ago. It’s 6:10 am.  52° F.  We’re trudging up a severe incline at Mianus River Park in Connecticut, back to reality.  It’s Christmas Day.  391 acres. No humans, no superficial chit chat – ISTJ magic. Squirrels, Zeke and me.  He’s at my heels, the clanking of his steel tags breaking the morning silence.  He’s panting. I’m heaving.

It was a week ago.  It was 82° F, gusty, the fronds on the palm trees slapping.  Anguilla’s beach, fine white sand sifting through your toes, walking on cotton.  The sea is warm, clear, the white sand carpets the ocean floor.  I’m floating on a thick foam mattress, the tropical winds sashay the hammock.  Wispy clouds, paintings, lazily pass overhead.  If there was heaven….

That was a week ago. It’s a muddy track from the rains. Footing is sloppy.  The Sun is working to burn through the clouds. Mist is rising from the earth.  I’m over layered, overdressed and overheating during this December heat wave.  And there’s Anguilla. Ever present. But, could you live there?

It was a week ago. Sea, sand, and weather anchored in a 75° – 85° F range, all year long.  Gentle trade winds blow.  And you friend, what say you?  You were Gordon Lightfoot’s caged bird: “Like the trembling heart of a captive bird.” 

Sweat gushes, I stop to catch my breath. Zeke circles back to join me. We sit on a stone overlooking the woods in the valley.

Give me my woods and the toe stubs on roots.
Give me the turned ankles on uneven rocks and the tumbles into the dark soil and hard earth.
Give me gray overcast days, the full cloud cover, and the misty mornings.
Give me drizzle, fat rain drops, and freezing rain.
Give me my seasons, the smoky autumns, the sub zero January days and the anxious anticipation of spring.

We get to the car. I look over at Zeke, who is swishing his tail waiting for his treat. I pull out four salted almonds, and hand them to him one at a time.  He looks up with his sad eyes, expecting more.

“Bud, enough.  More than enough.  Let’s go Home.”

Heaven can wait.


Notes:

Comments

  1. Funny, as I get older, I finally understand all those ancient snowbirds flocking south for the winter. Comfort is outrunning Pride of Endurance.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. The juxtaposition alone makes me winded…well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This debate goes on in our house from time to time as well. The lure of ceaseless sunshine is strong, but the cycling seasons have my heart….

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “Give me my seasons, the smoky autumns, the sub zero January days and the anxious anticipation of spring.” yes, i am still here too. love a short respite now and then, to those dreamy, warm, sunny climes, but always yearn to come back to the seasons, where i can feel life more fully –

    Liked by 1 person

  5. The best of both worlds… visit Paradise, go home to appreciate it.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Just last night we debated going away next Christmas. My husband suggested going someplace warm to get our scuba certification. My 17-year-old son reacted vehemently against the notion of spending the winter holidays at the beach. It was an almost primal reaction.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I have a spirit that requires those change of seasons. It is warm, but a bit wounded now.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I’m happy you got a good break in the soothing equatorial climate and the beautiful scenery! Reading you great writing, I’m also convinced the nature of magic is universal. It seems to apply equally to an ISTJ and ENFP.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
    There are no “winter months” ….. Not in Florida, this year … either!!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Anguilla sounds like my kind of place. Each passing year the changing of the seasons has less and less appeal. I’m looking forward to Endless Summers, but not quite yet…

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I love dreaming about it too. And looking on Zillow for houses not that far from Helen!
    ISTJ eh …

    Liked by 1 person

  12. our nature is that we tend to become bored with what we have! though a year round 75 degrees would be heaven. definitely not 90+

    Liked by 1 person

  13. “If there was heaven”…. There are heaven’s all over the world (just coming back from one) and although we think we only want that, we need change. The shift in seasons and change in pace, helps us learn, grow and listen. Glad you had some time in your heaven. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Love the seasons David, although ours here on the Northern western side of the country are not as dramatic as yours. I also enjoy when you write your posts!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: