Down 98, over to Cape San Blas Road, across to Lone Pine and up the path, a little two story cabin sits right on the beach. Upstairs in the bedroom, you pull the sheet up a little. The breeze through the window has gotten a bit chilly. A half dozen pillows keep you propped up. The glow of the lamp on the bedside table next to the window gives out just enough light to read. You’re holding the little book you got in the mail today. The glass of wine under the lamp has one more swallow. The vegetable soup is still warm and comforting in your belly. The sweet corn, new potatoes, fresh tomatoes. The book had filled your head with good folks throughout the south. Some of them maybe even angels. Words that had brought you to the point where you knew it was ok not to worry, not to grieve, not to fret…if not for just a little while. The sound of the waves right outside draws your eyes to a close and this day is pleasantly over.
