The Soul, The body, And One Small Egret

Sometimes on Saturdays I get the blues. On other days I can usually embrace my solitude. On Saturdays, I can feel very isolated. I can sink into a mode of being that brings to mind a word my father used about himself when he was at his lowest ebb. In a drawing of himself he sits, legs splayed, facing the corner of a room, or perhaps a box. At the top of the page he has written "The Alienato". This Saturday I determined not to be "The Alienato". I would get in my car and drive to the library, then walk around downtown with my camera. 

I did return a book at the library, and I met an old friend there and had a little visit. She, too, has been suffering with Sciatica, and I encouraged her to get the injection. But after that I returned to the car, realizing I couldn't handle any more interaction, which a walk downtown would surely lead to. Instead, I drove to East Beach and found exactly the sort of companionship I needed. 

As I walked on the sparkling white sand to the water's edge, I saw that the little egret was dancing again. This time in the clearest green-gold water I've seen in a while. It seemed to have soaked up the sun. There was wind and some lovely waves to encourage the egret's dance, and I soaked up the bliss of the bird and called it my own. Perhaps the beach has a magnetic effect on my soul. My soul can feel deprived when I stay away too long. On days like this my camera may serve as a conduit for my soul to drink through.

Physically, it can be a bit demanding though. The eyes are frustrated by reflections on the screen. At the beach on a bright sunny day I really do feel the lack of a viewfinder on my camera. I am often shooting blind. And my poor body is pressed into squatting, sitting, leaning backward. I forget the strain it may be under until much later. Poor dear body; it has served me so well during countless ecstatic moments of forgetfulness. I haven't always considered it, let alone thanked it properly. 

Dear little body, what a marvelous conduit you have been and still are for my soul's cavorting. Thank you...

I post two extras, one obviously taken when shooting blind. I think it may give you an idea of the abandon I experienced during my time on the beach.