| Biographical Non-Fiction posted May 3, 2015 |
  |
momentous
Change and Reflection
by jlsavell
It is early A.M. The sun is just rising. I can feel its warm kiss on my back as I walk toward the small inlet harbor of Lake Charles, Louisiana. After purchasing a stout coffee from the local Pujo’s, I eye a modern industrialized park bench installed above the water’s edge and just north of the docks. I take it up on its offer to 'come sit awhile, enjoy the view, and reflect on the complexities of life as well as the simple moments which make life worth living.’
I find the perfect spot to enjoy this moment, not only paying attention to what I am feeling but to the world, which surrounds me.
To my immediate south, sailing ships with masts retired and yachts that could rival the lifestyle of the rich and famous rest within their moorings, tied and anchored to pilings the same way a mother harnesses a child for safe keeping. The faint continuous roar of engines tells me some of their cargo decided to dream upon the waters.
Just north of my peripheral vision is Gunslinger Bridge, a trough truss with a vertical clearance of one hundred and thirty five feet. I reminisce fondly, remembering the first time I had to drive across its expanse. Fear gripped me with each ascent and descent. Though just a small bridge in comparison to most, to me it still looms large on the horizon transporting travelers and its local citizens to destinations defined. From my distance, the cars climbing and descending seem to glide on a trolley, much like a child viewing Lionel model trains rolling along on a miniature landscape.
Directly across from me, perhaps the breadth of two miles is drawing casinos which try very hard to mimic Las Vegas. Though the imitation is cheap, they look grand and pompous for this small quaint city.
The concrete park behind me has been left to attendants of the winged kind. Perching their superiority upon the swing sets, chattering, gossiping, and trying to decide which end of the harbor will provide their fare today.
The gentle salty sea breeze gives me a brushing peck and, like lovers often do, tassels the hair. The familiar sounds of harbor life are just awakening, which had been muffled from the early cloak of daylight. The distinct time between 2a.m. and 5a.m., when too much gaiety has stupefied partiers dancing on the decks of their ladyships and lady luck became so fickle, her patrons finally left the game.
I am here because I left my concrete lover of twenty years-Houston, Texas. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours, so intermittently, the longing returns to what ifs.
My life consisted of compartmentalized slots of surviving, time frames of commuting and working. Love and fulfillment had become elusive, fleeting in and out of momentary happiness, ultimately crushed by betrayal and deceit. I had become so consumed with being busy with the busy-ness of days, chasing false dreams, avoiding the true desire of my heart because I felt it was impossible to bring to fruition.
The breath of my life’s longing, the very entity which stokes the furnaces of my heart is family. Most of my children and their children reside in this small city. Though I visited as much as I could, each time I left, I reminded myself that life is too short for short visits. I crossed that bridge going toward the Texas line with a heavy heart.
A few weeks ago, my job dissolved along with a relationship. A relationship that I truly believed was God sent.
Bags packed and stuffed with many prayers and a car with a tank of gas, I arrived last night. I don’t know what the future holds, but what I do know is this- Life is hard enough. However: embracing fear, allowing change despite how uncomfortable, letting go of bitterness, and realizing real life is about nurturing your blessed relationships, dissipates the albatross which suffocates dreams and disrobes the coat of loneliness.
I do believe this harbor will be my new-found sanctuary where reflection and gratitude will always surface with each morning tide.
A barge is just coming under the bridge while a regale of canoes are shoring up for a race. The ripples are slapping against the concrete retaining wall with a rhythm. Under the bluest skies, the sun has arrived in full gilded glory bouncing its blinding rays proudly across today’s calm waters. I stand, take a deep breath and with vigor in my step, return to a real life.
It is early A.M. The sun is just rising. I can feel its warm kiss on my back as I walk toward the small inlet harbor of Lake Charles, Louisiana. After purchasing a stout coffee from the local Pujo’s, I eye a modern industrialized park bench installed above the water’s edge and just north of the docks. I take it up on its offer to 'come sit awhile, enjoy the view, and reflect on the complexities of life as well as the simple moments which make life worth living.’
I find the perfect spot to enjoy this moment, not only paying attention to what I am feeling but to the world, which surrounds me.
To my immediate south, sailing ships with masts retired and yachts that could rival the lifestyle of the rich and famous rest within their moorings, tied and anchored to pilings the same way a mother harnesses a child for safe keeping. The faint continuous roar of engines tells me some of their cargo decided to dream upon the waters.
Just north of my peripheral vision is Gunslinger Bridge, a trough truss with a vertical clearance of one hundred and thirty five feet. I reminisce fondly, remembering the first time I had to drive across its expanse. Fear gripped me with each ascent and descent. Though just a small bridge in comparison to most, to me it still looms large on the horizon transporting travelers and its local citizens to destinations defined. From my distance, the cars climbing and descending seem to glide on a trolley, much like a child viewing Lionel model trains rolling along on a miniature landscape.
Directly across from me, perhaps the breadth of two miles is drawing casinos which try very hard to mimic Las Vegas. Though the imitation is cheap, they look grand and pompous for this small quaint city.
The concrete park behind me has been left to attendants of the winged kind. Perching their superiority upon the swing sets, chattering, gossiping, and trying to decide which end of the harbor will provide their fare today.
The gentle salty sea breeze gives me a brushing peck and, like lovers often do, tassels the hair. The familiar sounds of harbor life are just awakening, which had been muffled from the early cloak of daylight. The distinct time between 2a.m. and 5a.m., when too much gaiety has stupefied partiers dancing on the decks of their ladyships and lady luck became so fickle, her patrons finally left the game.
I am here because I left my concrete lover of twenty years-Houston, Texas. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours, so intermittently, the longing returns to what ifs.
My life consisted of compartmentalized slots of surviving, time frames of commuting and working. Love and fulfillment had become elusive, fleeting in and out of momentary happiness, ultimately crushed by betrayal and deceit. I had become so consumed with being busy with the busy-ness of days, chasing false dreams, avoiding the true desire of my heart because I felt it was impossible to bring to fruition.
The breath of my life’s longing, the very entity which stokes the furnaces of my heart is family. Most of my children and their children reside in this small city. Though I visited as much as I could, each time I left, I reminded myself that life is too short for short visits. I crossed that bridge going toward the Texas line with a heavy heart.
A few weeks ago, my job dissolved along with a relationship. A relationship that I truly believed was God sent.
Bags packed and stuffed with many prayers and a car with a tank of gas, I arrived last night. I don’t know what the future holds, but what I do know is this- Life is hard enough. However: embracing fear, allowing change despite how uncomfortable, letting go of bitterness, and realizing real life is about nurturing your blessed relationships, dissipates the albatross which suffocates dreams and disrobes the coat of loneliness.
I do believe this harbor will be my new-found sanctuary where reflection and gratitude will always surface with each morning tide.
A barge is just coming under the bridge while a regale of canoes are shoring up for a race. The ripples are slapping against the concrete retaining wall with a rhythm. Under the bluest skies, the sun has arrived in full gilded glory bouncing its blinding rays proudly across today’s calm waters. I stand, take a deep breath and with vigor in my step, return to a real life.
I find the perfect spot to enjoy this moment, not only paying attention to what I am feeling but to the world, which surrounds me.
To my immediate south, sailing ships with masts retired and yachts that could rival the lifestyle of the rich and famous rest within their moorings, tied and anchored to pilings the same way a mother harnesses a child for safe keeping. The faint continuous roar of engines tells me some of their cargo decided to dream upon the waters.
Just north of my peripheral vision is Gunslinger Bridge, a trough truss with a vertical clearance of one hundred and thirty five feet. I reminisce fondly, remembering the first time I had to drive across its expanse. Fear gripped me with each ascent and descent. Though just a small bridge in comparison to most, to me it still looms large on the horizon transporting travelers and its local citizens to destinations defined. From my distance, the cars climbing and descending seem to glide on a trolley, much like a child viewing Lionel model trains rolling along on a miniature landscape.
Directly across from me, perhaps the breadth of two miles is drawing casinos which try very hard to mimic Las Vegas. Though the imitation is cheap, they look grand and pompous for this small quaint city.
The concrete park behind me has been left to attendants of the winged kind. Perching their superiority upon the swing sets, chattering, gossiping, and trying to decide which end of the harbor will provide their fare today.
The gentle salty sea breeze gives me a brushing peck and, like lovers often do, tassels the hair. The familiar sounds of harbor life are just awakening, which had been muffled from the early cloak of daylight. The distinct time between 2a.m. and 5a.m., when too much gaiety has stupefied partiers dancing on the decks of their ladyships and lady luck became so fickle, her patrons finally left the game.
I am here because I left my concrete lover of twenty years-Houston, Texas. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours, so intermittently, the longing returns to what ifs.
My life consisted of compartmentalized slots of surviving, time frames of commuting and working. Love and fulfillment had become elusive, fleeting in and out of momentary happiness, ultimately crushed by betrayal and deceit. I had become so consumed with being busy with the busy-ness of days, chasing false dreams, avoiding the true desire of my heart because I felt it was impossible to bring to fruition.
The breath of my life’s longing, the very entity which stokes the furnaces of my heart is family. Most of my children and their children reside in this small city. Though I visited as much as I could, each time I left, I reminded myself that life is too short for short visits. I crossed that bridge going toward the Texas line with a heavy heart.
A few weeks ago, my job dissolved along with a relationship. A relationship that I truly believed was God sent.
Bags packed and stuffed with many prayers and a car with a tank of gas, I arrived last night. I don’t know what the future holds, but what I do know is this- Life is hard enough. However: embracing fear, allowing change despite how uncomfortable, letting go of bitterness, and realizing real life is about nurturing your blessed relationships, dissipates the albatross which suffocates dreams and disrobes the coat of loneliness.
I do believe this harbor will be my new-found sanctuary where reflection and gratitude will always surface with each morning tide.
A barge is just coming under the bridge while a regale of canoes are shoring up for a race. The ripples are slapping against the concrete retaining wall with a rhythm. Under the bluest skies, the sun has arrived in full gilded glory bouncing its blinding rays proudly across today’s calm waters. I stand, take a deep breath and with vigor in my step, return to a real life.
 Recognized |
Pic of Gunslinger Bridge
Thank you for reviewing. jls
Enjoy..gotta love him!
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Thank you for reviewing. jls
Enjoy..gotta love him!
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. jlsavell All rights reserved.
jlsavell has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.