at land's end

i feel like i'm in a book in this place. there could not be a better spot to sit and think, and if i believe that the universe conspires to bring you what you need, i am only reaffirmed here. there is a sun porch here, and a deck, and looking out you can see the little marshland with the inlet that leads to the sea, and straight across the bay and marshes to the lighthouse at harbor town, three miles away, where i bike every morning when i wake up. this morning i went twelve miles, all the way to harbor town and the back halfway to home, and then out to the end of sea pines, past all these golf courses and beautiful homes and turtles and spanish moss hanging from the skinniest pine trees you can imagine.

it is cloudy and windy now and about to storm, and the rushes are blowing all toward the beach, and there are egrets in the water, and it is quiet, and peaceful. here we stay at the part of sea pines called "land's end" and i feel it. we are at land's end. when it starts to rain i will go sit out on the deck and think as it is bound to be a warm rain and warm rain is good for thinking. i wish i never had to leave. i wish i had enough talent to be a writer, so that i never had to leave. as it is i have to admire h, who has so much poetry in her that it practically leaps from her fingertips, and go back to writing about law, which is, i think, for people who can write well, but not about anything beautiful enough to make them poets. at least, that is how i think of myself.