I’ve been glued to the TV screen the last week, watching the track of Hurricane Dorian. As many of you who stop by here regularly know, I have a house that I share with family at Tybee Island, Georgia. And having a home on the coast is always an up and down experience. One minute, you’re basking oceanside, toes in the sand. The next minute, you’re looking for bags to fill with sand to keep the ocean out of your house.
But as scary as Hurricane Dorian has been, Tybee’s not my mostly home. My mostly home is far away, in the metro Atlanta area where it’s hot as blue blazes and safe from winds and flooding. So it’s heart-breaking to see all those people in the Bahamas, facing the devastation of their one-and-only homes. And to know that the Carolinas are facing dangerous winds and hurricane warnings as well.
Thank you to all who’ve reached out to me; know that I’m good, my island home is good, and I hope you’ll join with me to help all those who will be dealing with home hardship for many days to come.
It’s a weird twist that I wrote about Tybee in my latest post over at the Muffin. Technically, I wrote about forest-bathing, but on Tybee, it’s more like coastal bathing. The concept–getting away from it all and soaking up the therapeutic vibes of nature while meandering along–is the same, no matter where one chooses to roam.
I love forest bathing and I find that it’s conducive to the creative process. But sometimes, as in “Forest Bathing and a Really Good Idea”, the creative process works a bit too well. Until it doesn’t work at all and one crashes with the debris of a really great idea rattling around in one’s head.
I guess you’ll just have to read the post to make any sense of it all. Because honestly, I’ve watched WAY more TV than normal for me and I’m not sure I’m making much sense. But I am sure of one thing.
It’s true what they say. There’s no place like home.