Angle to Key West: Peace with the Sound (5/18)

Jellyfish

Rodanthe, NC – May 18, 2013

I sat for hours on a thin beach waiting for the sun to rise and dry out my clothes. I needed to feel it for my sanity. Not drying from wet to damp, but dry to where every hint of water evaporates and the fabric feels stiff with salt.

I sat and stared at Pamlico Sound imagining how far I’d have to drag the boat into the water before it would float. Thirty feet. A quarter mile. Half. Even a few inches, just off the sand to the water’s edge, sounded exhausting and I felt foolish.

The sound, Cape Hatteras, they’d never promised me anything. I’d just looked at a map and dreamed up a place in my head. I made up stories about how it would be and expected them to come true.

Now I needed to let that go. I needed to adapt to the shallow water, to the effort of pulling a boat across hidden banks. I needed to drag expectations closer to reality and make peace with the difference.

I sat and dried in the sun, staring at the sound until walking a half mile out didn’t feel impossible. Then I grabbed the boat and pulled.

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4 thoughts on “Angle to Key West: Peace with the Sound (5/18)

  1. “I made up stories about how it would be and expected them to come true.” Isn’t that what we do so often in life? “I needed to drag expectations closer to reality and make peace with the difference”
    And don’t we all. I love this story, D. I love your resiliance. In the end you grab the boat and pull. 🙂

  2. When I was a little boy I went by myself to the Cuban seashore close to my home and starting popping with a stick the dried jellyfish similar to the one in your picture. They were all over the beach. Within 20 minutes my eyes were burning like a raging fire. I ran home as fast as I could and my mom swabbed my eyes with wet cotton balls for a good 2 hours. Lesson: Don’t mess with Texas and dry (or wet) jellyfish. Great story D.

  3. Not just a jellyfish. A Portuguese man of war. And as comet4545 notes, they STING. I learned this in the 50’s when my baby sister came tearing out of the water at Daytona Beach, screeching at the top of her lungs, after having been stung by one. Nasty fellows. Glad you didn’t get stung.

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