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Thursday, July 1, 2010

Between Me and The Ocean

Sabrina : No one ever stops... The whole place. And it's like everything is asleep... and... I used to walk everywhere in Paris. I used to walk from Montmartre down into the center of the town. Along the Seine there is a 4-mile wall that goes from Isle Saint Germain to the Pontde Bercy. Takes you past all the bridges of Paris, 23 of them. Then you find one you love and you go there everyday with your coffee and your journal, and you listen to the river.
Linus : What does it tell you?

Sabrina : That's between me and the river.

I've never been to France, but I have my own Paris. Here on the Sunshine Coast there are artisan, bakers, craftsmen, woodworkers.  There are trails to hike, coves to discover and coastline to explore.  There are miles of windy highways that take to you far off remote places.  There is the old general store up the street and there is the local produce grower where you can buy your farm fresh eggs and salad greens fresh from her garden.  You pay by the honor system and it works. In town there are cafes and delis and art galleries and a Saturday morning farmers market. Ok, not actally like Paris, but it is to me what Paris is to Sabrina in a local closer to home kind of way.

Every morning I'm here, without fail, I walk down to Sargent's Bay.  It's about a mile down to the end of the trail where there is a bench I sit on and watch the bay, birds, tide, clouds, waves, whatever.

If I journaled I'm sure I would come down here to do it. Instead, I just think, send thoughts/questions out to the universe and get lost in my own intellectual wanderings.    

There is a log that jets out to the middle of the bay that have been there for as long as I've been coming here.   It's my Parisian bridge if you will.

I'm there most of August, you should come visit. You might just fall in love.


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