(no subject)
I have to say that I love the heat--and I love how relaxed this city seems, even with the upcoming G8 summit. There are less students, less tourists, and less concerns; the heat reduces everything to a slow drawl, and there are days when just walking seems arduous, when all I want to do is sit and look at the sunlight filtering through the shade, the leaves, the trees moving, and smell the subtle scent of salt from the ocean mix with the remnants of a warm rain.
I went to the beach with Taylor and Wes on Wednesday, and layed on the sand, my skin bathed in strong sun, and that strength seemed to stay with me. I felt rejuvenated, a little tired maybe, but calm, the grueling effects of last quarter having been evaporated, replaced with a softness.
I had forgotten why I love the beach and it was a pleasent reminder when I returned home from Tybee. I think this feeling will stay with me while I remain here, and hopefully last through Atlanta, when I will force upon myself the implications of a city; the traffic, the people, the shopping, the art, the amazing things that happen when many different people are impressed together. It will be a change, but maybe a needed one.
Waiting beneath this placidity, however, is this clinging sense of obligation that I am trying to ignore and thwart, however it keeps resurfacing. On the surface, everything would seem just about perfect, but yet there is a discomfort. Maybe I am not accustomed to it. Maybe I need to accept it. But the discomfort is still there. Let's hope it doesn't taint an otherwise idyllic summer season.
I went to the beach with Taylor and Wes on Wednesday, and layed on the sand, my skin bathed in strong sun, and that strength seemed to stay with me. I felt rejuvenated, a little tired maybe, but calm, the grueling effects of last quarter having been evaporated, replaced with a softness.
I had forgotten why I love the beach and it was a pleasent reminder when I returned home from Tybee. I think this feeling will stay with me while I remain here, and hopefully last through Atlanta, when I will force upon myself the implications of a city; the traffic, the people, the shopping, the art, the amazing things that happen when many different people are impressed together. It will be a change, but maybe a needed one.
Waiting beneath this placidity, however, is this clinging sense of obligation that I am trying to ignore and thwart, however it keeps resurfacing. On the surface, everything would seem just about perfect, but yet there is a discomfort. Maybe I am not accustomed to it. Maybe I need to accept it. But the discomfort is still there. Let's hope it doesn't taint an otherwise idyllic summer season.