Seeing with New Eyes

It’s harder than I expected – this being at home. I can’t get over the strange feeling of it, as though I’m here but not here. And, it’s going to be harder than I expected to hold on to the wonder of the past year. I find myself, already, slipping back into old patterns of going about my day without really seeing. That’s rarely happened in France. Thankfully, I was jarred out of stupor.

It happened as I was walking on a sunny, cloudless morning. It was a beautiful day as I crossed the Eastport Bridge into downtown. And there it was, dazzling in the early morning light, Annapolis. The water was like glass reflecting the sky, the boats and the buildings. The brightness of the light against the white boats and the houses lining the creek made me squint, and gasp with wonder. If this had been a village in France, I would have been watching and waiting for the wonder, but here in Annapolis I was plowing forward without seeing. For the rest of my walk – and hopefully for much more time to come – I committed to seeing Annapolis as though I were in Honfleur. Here’s what it looked like.

The trees were showing off. Flower encrusted branches, some in soft pinks and others so pale they were almost white, were translucent in the sunlight. Tulip Poplars defy gravity with heavy blooms upturned to the sky. I had to duck under some of the branches of trees lining the sidewalk. I ambled along the quaint streets of the historic district admiring the old townhouses dressed in their muted colors. The smell of freshly mulched beds was in the air, and little kids were on their way to class at St. Mary’s. Parents were unloading vans full of them. A cute, little boy was running up the street to his friends as a neighbor called out, “Hey, Zach! How are you?” Without turning or slowing he yelled, “Awesome!” Exactly.

The view from City Dock was lovely. I’d forgotten how the skyline is filled with spires. Against the blue sky, the white of the Capitol dome gleamed and the steeple of St. Anne’s Church rose up behind. To the left was the spire of St. Mary’s Church and to the right, the dome of the Naval Academy Chapel. The day before, I was stopped in my tracks at a street-end park in Eastport as the bells in the chapel chimed across the creek, just as they did in Cotignac.

I’ve gone to Quiet Waters Park a few times since returning to let it work its own brand of charm. It is quiet there without the noise and smell of car exhaust. What delight there is in hearing the dry leaves rustle underneath tiny claws of scampering squirrels (there were no squirrels in France). Birds chirped overhead in the still-bare branches, and there was the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker working on a tree. Back home, our yard looks like a pink-themed New Years Eve party took place last night. The flower petals from the purple plum and star magnolia are falling like confetti.

Mike continues to be a source of amazement to me. He, like the squirrels, scampers around the house fixing this, cleaning that. I watch as he hauls out my enormous flower pots that I’ll plant next month. I don’t ask. He just does it. He is so clearly at home that it makes me smile.

And what’s next for me? Hmmm. I start back to work tomorrow. We rented an apartment for me in DC so that I don’t have to commute during the week. Last week was spent gathering furniture scavenged from friends, packing up a truck, and moving everything into the city. We were thankful to have Mindi’s nephew, Elan, to help load (he lifted a huge rug into the truck by himself!) and Maggie to help unload. I don’t relish being away from Mike during the week, but it will be nice to have more time and less exhaustion from the traffic. I can already tell that, for a time, I will feel a sense of loss. On top of missing France, I don’t want to lose connections with friends and the community of Eastport while I’m away in DC. Mike and I will sort that out as we go.

On the other hand, there’s much to look forward to in the future. I plan to periodically write blogs and hopefully some of you will keep reading. And, Mike and I want to write about our experiences. It’s a way for us to encourage others to follow their dream. Being alone in DC will give me time and energy to write and develop speaking materials to literally tell our story. I am excited about that - really excited. I can’t yet see how this may play out, but it will be fine. It’ll be more than fine. I want to be like that kid running to school. Without looking back, I know it’ll be awesome.