it is also comprised (if you choose it to be so) of sunsets and sunrises; the warm gulf breeze rumpling through salt-sea wet hair; beautiful music that balms the soul as will a perfect passage of poetry; holding hands and gentle kisses during the ordinary moments of the day; a glass of champagne with the sun's final breath; cuddling up in a blanket with a book you have waited to read with adventesque anticipation or heading out to a favorite spot-- a mountaintop or lounging under a palm tree; all gifts to the spirit of the heart.
When I feel the pressures of finance or the burden of survival too keenly, I pull up a glass of Sparkling Beringer and pour myself onto the couch to watch something special. Sometimes, as often as I can, it is my favorite show Key West. It contains not only the magic of a show that was remarkable for an unremarkable industry but reminders of the place that I call home-- though my residence is Denver.
When I am in Key West the waving of a wand to discover treasure that was not there before or the sprinkling of fairy dust so that I can fly seems possible. When I am there, the anxious and darkened past is stripped away. A newness is gifted to me, the possibility of leaving the dim shadows of yesterday in my wake and I am able to look to broader, wider horizons. When I am there, it seems that I can walk right out onto the horizon and keep walking into the wildness of the ocean, peering down at a corner of the world unperceived before. When I am in Key West, I find myself to be who I am.
It is a gift... the benevolence of place. Finding the place you belong, the place that strips away the old paint that was layered there by time... pain... wariness.. weariness... and takes you back to your brick foundations.
