Florida is prettier than Texas

I just got back today from a trip to see my aunt and uncle in Florida. They live in Sarasota, what used to be a cutesy artsy fartsy place about an hour south of Tampa. As with most totally awesome places on the coast, the place has morphed into this slightly depressing but still gorgeous city with towering condos and monstrous houses on itty bitty lots. I feel like my vacationer’s soul has grown up in Sarasota because my aunt has lived there most of my life, and I've visited maybe a dozen or so times. I used to want to retire there, but already I can’t afford it and have given up the dream. Besides, I’m sure the place would lose its charm without my aunt dragging me to the EcoFest or the farmer’s market or didigeridoo playing or botanical garden concerts--you get my drift. This particular weekend we spent the mornings relaxing and being family, the lunch hours exploring some fun and/or different event, and the afternoons lounging in the beach. I’m amazed at how much more whole I feel on the beach; it’s my sanctuary. I don’t know how that ever happened. I don’t have special family beach memories, and the one time I went to Easter sunrise service on the sand I was pretty damn grumpy for having to get up for the freaking sunrise. At any rate, I was thinking: maybe we have these places that make us happy or serene or vital because they’re our natural “place”. Maybe some folks are most at peace in church, in the forest, in a dark room. Maybe my great place of worship is on the sand, bowing before the waves.

Hey, just an idea.