The Long Way Home


Tybee Island
April 23, 2015, 7:22 AM
Filed under: Georgia | Tags: , , ,
in the blue

endless

I confess: I cannot swim. Not in the real way, anyhow. I float on my back so I can look up at the sky and listen to the sea. The first time I saw an ocean was in Virginia. I was 11, and I took a raft into the water to ride the waves, only to be surrounded by jellyfish, translucent flowers swirling near my arm. Later, my sister got stung by one, her small thigh swelling up to almost twice its size. I learned the power of the water. Yet still, I have beach dreams. On Tybee, I wandered off saddled with cameras, shoes slung over my shoulder. Crashing waves, a bickering family. Broken, glistening shells. A tiny ship in the distance.

a memory

a memory

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15 Comments so far
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Not only you are a very talented photographer – you are an amazing writer as well. Your text is the most perfect accompaniment for these photos… I was going to call them beautiful, but they are more than that. They successfully capture the nature of the world which I believe is both fleeting and permanent. Makes my heart ache a bit.

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Comment by Eugenie

Eugenie – Thank you for such a sweet, sweet comment – makes my heart sing. I love being near the ocean – it gives me great joy, and also fills my heart with a bit of melancholy too.

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Comment by Lisa

These look like paintings!

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Comment by Jeff

I know – I really love this film.

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Comment by Lisa

I love that photo of Jeff crashing a sea gull party

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Comment by Bill

Oh, Lisa!…I just love them…(…smiling and smiling…)

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Comment by karijeppesen

thanks, kari!

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Comment by Lisa

Very poetic prose and pictures–love it.

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Comment by mww1818

thanks, michael for following our journey this week.

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Comment by Lisa

I can only swim in my dreams.

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Comment by John

Me too, John. And in my dreams, I am a mermaid.

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Comment by Lisa

I can not swim either. I wish I knew the freedom of that motion. Back floating will have to do. Thanks for another beautifully visual entry.

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Comment by motherblue212

Exactly! My mother was an excellent swimmer – she did competitive diving in high school. I have very vague memories of her diving off the board at a suburban swimming pool and being really proud. I don’t know why she never taught us though. It was “her” thing, much like art is to me.

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Comment by Lisa

My dad was a competitive swimmer! I suppose they both may have wanted something for themselves. Although, in my dad’s case, I think he lacked a lot of patience for teaching something he felt should just come naturally.

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Comment by motherblue212

Get out- that is so wild! How could this possibly be that we were never taught to swim by two swimming parents? There is some metaphor happening here (the writer in me says). “I suppose they both may have wanted something for themselves.” Yes – most certainly my mother. I found YMCA schedules in her box of paper, times for classes and free-swims. Evidence of her alone-time.

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Comment by Lisa




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