This cold and beautiful March morning was stolen straight out of January, with its quiet lake-like waves gently rippling to the shore. I sit beside it, somewhat distracted.
I ask Google how many US counties have coronavirus. It's March 8, and the numbers are still low. But out of 3,142 counties/county equivalents, Santa Rosa is one of them. A resident in his 70s died from COVID-19. Did our paths cross?
I shake my thoughts from the hot topic of the day and think about my week. Big changes are afoot.
I no longer work in Milton, driving over a half-hour to and from home. My territory is now my town. Come Monday I'll drive five minutes to my first store and go from there.
This saves money on gas, saves wear and tear on my car, and so much time. Also, I'm ready to focus on other things. Dare I say I'm ready for a change? I will miss my drive on Scenic Highway in Pensacola, though: read Commute Delight here
Another development involves Courage Without Grace, my current manuscript. A beta reader returned her copy with excellent feedback, and two more wait in the wings, so it's time. I query agents next, starting this week of new beginnings.
As groups of sandpipers skitter by, as people search for shells along the shore, as a lone surfer rides the small swells, I breathe in deep and try to soak in the beauty. A flock of seagulls sits on a sandbar looking out to the ocean, calling. Surrounded by water, they create a strange site.
I'm distracted again. A couple walks a little too close to my chair, and I watch them, wondering ...
Photo credits: Chris Zokan