Folly

 

January 3, 2024

Fifth floor of the Tides in Folly Beach. Travel tedious & uneventful, except for the unexpected gastric urgency that makes me wonder if tours or long flights are the best things for me, yet. The tide is low. The puffy clouds are flat at the bottom, as though sitting on glass. I had forgotten how enormous pelicans are. When I plugged the computer in, it started up at the part of Messiah where it was when I shut it off– “from shame and spitting.”

A strange thing happened during the drive. I let the radio dwell on one of those Christian stations that seem to cover entire states. After half an hour, I underwent a sort of conversion, difficult to describe or explain. I didn’t move, but my position refined and clarified, spirit pointing to True North. Paul on the Road to the Beach, blinded and eyes opened. What an odd thing.

Town all but empty. Dinner with J and L at the Bounty Bar, not a soul there but us.