Escaping Crazy

Everybody needs to get away from whatever crazy is in our lives. For two weeks, Adam and I have hoped for clear weather to get away to the beach. Yesterday ... we did it!
On the ferry:

 Harker's Island - its sandy roads, quirky cottages, and live oaks:

 A dilapidated farmhouse set amongst knobby trees with the ocean behind it:

 The Straits, off Core Sound:

 A brief stop for a can of something to keep the car engine from squeaking ...

 Lunch at The Spot Grill

 It takes a while to get to the beach, set up, settle inside the tent, and relax. We both read. Adam napped.

 He looks a little grumpy, but he's not. He's squinting at the sun. He doesn't particularly like the beach (sand, salt, sitting in the heat ... sand especially), but he did it for me, and then he had to tell me to stop apologizing and asking if he wanted to leave. So I said okay, and we stayed longer contentedly.

 I painted something that was supposed to resemble a plover.

 I extended the date and took us to Fort Macon, built well before the Civil War. Such a history!

 The Coast Guard were there for the weekly Wednesday firing of a cannon. That was interesting to watch.

I took a video of the firing, but it was too long for Blogger to upload it from my camera. Ah well. It was quite a loud boom!

The ferry ride home before sunset with seagulls flying and a rain storm up river:

Fly away. Have you ever envied a bird? Those birds of the air that do not sow nor reap nor store anything away -- and yet they're provided for. They don't worry about tomorrow. More and more, it seems that so many of us live lives overcome with anxiety. Just when you think you've got some sort of handle on the anxieties you already have, a new load comes along. I've been pondering these things lately because I know that humans have borne anxiety for all our existence, and many in centuries past had much harder lives than ours. How did they cope? They had no meds, no therapists, no sympathetic societies. Perhaps they didn't cope much at all. Jesus tells us repeatedly (as He anticipated His own horrific murder) not to worry, not to be anxious about anything. I spend a lot of time pondering Heaven and the peaceful New Earth we all anticipate, and remember that the worst sorrows of this planet are at least temporary. Thank goodness that the fall is accompanied by death. (Not meaning to be morbid) But the temporary nature of our anxious, sorrowing lives here is a blessing, is it not? And of course, there are very happy times too, times of sunlight and thanksgiving and sweet fellowship. Those help too. As do trips to the beach with one's best friend and fellow-laborer in this life! How could I do it without him? I'm so thankful God gave me a sweet husband who is my dear friend. That's all the blathering I have for you today, friends! Thanks for stopping by and sharing our beach trip!