Going Home

“And now this blog may fall silent for a few days as we continue packing and begin the long journey back home to Highlands,” I wrote on Tuesday.  But Wednesday morning I awoke to such a remarkably beautiful morning sky that I just had to post once more.

It had rained overnight, but the sky was just starting to break apart into blue sky to the east, while there were ominous-looking clouds to the west.  I took this video from the dune-top deck, east to west.

I began my Tai Chi immediately after taking the video, and had almost finished when those ominous clouds had approached and I felt a scattering of raindrops on my head.  By the time I had finished, it was coming down pretty hard, but it was a gentle rain and I did not mind at all as I walked back down the walkway to the condo, turning my face up to the sky to feel it falling. 

Five minutes later the sun was shining, and I took this photo of a ghostly partial rainbow over the adjoining houses and the playground equipment.  By the time I started running, an hour later, any trace of clouds had completely disappeared, and I had a good run down to the picnic area, including some hard intervals, and came back on the beach.

On the horizon these past few mornings I have noticed that there is a ship, just off Beaufort inlet, not a fishing boat but an ocean-going freighter.  It is waiting for the right time and tide to begin to make the long voyage across the turbulent ocean, going home.  Safe voyage, sailors!  May the winds be at your back.

Banker Horses

The tempo of our quiet days out here along the ocean seems to be accelerating this past week or two, and as a  result I have not posted anything to this blog in ten days.  We realized last week that, as surely as the tides coming and going and the moon waxing and waning, our time here is dwindling down, and we will be leaving on Sunday morning.  There is a lot of packing and organizing to do, but we have also tried to make time for some day trips. 

Last Sunday, we drove to New Bern to enjoy a matinee performance by the RiverTowne Players of a musical comedy called The Wedding Singer, based on the 1998 movie by the same name starring Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore.  The venue is the historic Masonic Theater, which opened in 1805.  It is always a pleasant surprise, as it is in Highlands, to discover a group of amateur players who love the theater and who throw themselves completely into a production that in this instance lasted only two weeks.  The lead (I assume the Adam Sandler character in the movie) was very good, and we were surprised to find from the playbill that he was an ex-Marine who teaches 7^th grade math at Havelock Elementary School!

The weather has turned warmer here, so warm that on Saturday after our long run we arranged to take the three-mile ferry trip from Beaufort to Shackleford Banks, one of several small islands just off the coast and part of Cape Lookout National Seashore.  While waiting for the ferry to depart, we walked around Beaufort and I saw this sign, as well as more than one vehicle flying a blue and yellow Ukrainian flag.  It is heartening how our country seems to have come together, for the most part, in solidarity with the Ukrainian people, and the latest news is that consumers would even support higher gas prices if it means tightening sanctions on Russia.

Shackleford Banks is unoccupied but it is famous for a herd of about a hundred wild horses that live there, browsing on the sparse grass and drinking water from one or two spring-fed ponds in the middle of the island.  Like the so-called “Banker Horses” which we have seen in Corolla, the origin of these horse is unknown, although legend says they are descendants of Spanish mustangs that survived a shipwreck.  I have read that DNA studies confirm that heritage.  The horses are protected and visitors are supposed to remain 50 feet away and not disturb them.  We had visited the island five years ago and seen quite a few of these beautiful creatures.

There were nearly forty passengers on the ferry but we felt pretty safe out in the open air; only one or two passengers wore face masks.  Our captain told us that he had witnessed a remarkable sight a month or two ago.  A fisherman on board a chartered boat had just reeled in a large bluefin tuna and he had nearly brought him on-board, when a great white shark leapt out of the water and bit off half of it before disappearing into the ocean. 

We disembarked on the island and everybody scattered in different directions, some to wade in the surf and collect shells, but most to find some of the horses.  We were not disappointed, as we soon came upon a group of three, and later three or four more.  

We tried to maintain fifty feet of separation, but one of the horses in particular kept approaching us – he must not have known about the regulation, or else he smelled something interesting in a backpack.

Shackleford Banks once had permanent residents, and we wondered what it would be like to live in a place like this as we wandered back to wait for the ferry.  Its only structure now, aside from some very rudimentary restrooms, is the imposing Cape Lookout lighthouse with its diamond pattern, which is at the other end of the island, accessible by a ferry from Harker’s Island.  We took that ferry several years ago and I took this photo at the time.

This past Sunday we drove to Bath, NC, a historic town dating to 1705 and containing some fine old homes and churches.  We had lunch at Blackbeard’s Tavern, an older building with uneven floors but with surprisingly good food and beer and friendly staff.  Bath was once home to the notorious pirate Edward Teach, AKA Blackbeard.

These distractions try to give us a brief respite from the grim news reports coming out of Ukraine, which are absolutely heartbreaking.  I find myself watching cable news on my computer for longer than usual, watching the terrible devastation of beautiful cities and the evacuation of two million refugees, until finally I force myself to pull away to go running or to go work out hard at the Sports Center, just to burn up the stress. Or to take a trip to a desert island.

I always used to wonder who I’d bring to a desert island.
Days, I remember cities.
Nights, I dream about a perfect place.
Days, I dive by the wreck.
Nights, I swim in the blue lagoon.

- Laurie Anderson, Blue Lagoon

And now this blog may fall silent for a few days as we continue packing and begin the long journey back home to Highlands.