Suits and Bells and Sandals and Books

Last night, we saw yet another excellent film in the series shown by the Beaufort Picture Show, The Last Suit, an Argentian film directed by Pablo Solarz.  It told the touching story of Abraham Bursztein, an 88 year-old Jewish tailor, who ran away from Buenos Aires to Poland to find an old friend who had saved him from death at the end of World War II.

We were glad to have subtitles for this one, because the dialogue was a mixture of Spanish, French, German, Polish, and Yiddish.   Again, this was not the sort of film that would have been shown to the general public at the Atlantic Station Cinema alongside Sonic the Hedgehog, but it received an enthusiastic round of applause from the avid film buffs gathered in the modest little warehouse where these films are shown.

This morning found me on the dune-top deck, gazing at a mesmerizing sunrise mostly obscured by dark clouds, with rays of light slanting down diagonally and a bright shimmer of light lying on the ocean.  I tried to take several pictures of this beautiful but subtle phenomenon, but this is the best I could do.

It reminded me of the subtle pleasures of that odd but powerful film we had just seen.  Nobody else was out at 7:00 a.m. to witness the quiet show of light and cloud and ocean, and like the story of a nondescript old man making a pilgrimage across Europe carrying a suitcase and a "last suit" (he was a tailor, and he had made it for his friend), it was not a spectacular glorious sunrise; it would have been overlooked by less avid watchers of movies and sunrises.  But it received my enthusiastic applause.

After breakfast, we returned to the Methodist Church again - we have not missed in seven weeks - for yet another sermon on the "I Am" statements of Jesus, "I am the True Vine," preached by Associate Pastor Sarah Williams.  And what a wonderful chancel choir and handbell choir this church has!  The Processional consisted of the Bells of Praise ringing their bells while the choir processed up the aisles, singing "Alleluia;" I have seldom heard anything more beautiful.  The offertory featured the bells again chiming the hymn "Living Water of Life."  I have never seen bells played quite like this, swung in the traditional manner of bell-ringing, and then from time to time laid down on the tables and bonged with a little mallet like a xylophone.  Absolutely beautiful.

After church, we had brunch at one of our favorite places, The Island Grill, right here in Atlantic Beach.  A restaurant that Martha's Aunt Lizette told us about, it is a small, upscale place, not much larger than a diner inside, and the food is absolutely delicious.  The Sunday brunch menu was affordable as well.  Martha had the omelet of the day and I had the Surf and Turf Benedict - a filet medalion and a crabcake with poached eggs and a delicate hollandaise with gouda grits on the side - a bargain at $13.

Now it is Sunday afternoon and Martha is out on the deck reading a book, as sunshine comes and goes, warm one minute and chilly the next.  I have lost count of the books that Martha has read - I have read a lot, too, but she is a faster reader - many of them from Marcella's Little Free Library, which is located outside a small private house on the sound side just before the bridge.  If you Google "libraries near me," I discovered, the Free Library shows up on the map along with the handsome old Webb Memorial Library and the Carteret County Library (I carry a library card from the latter).

Marcella has even pasted this cute little bookplate, adorned with beach-colored sandals, behind the cover of most of the books.

Books and sandals at the beach!  Now that is a good combination.