Читать книгу The Twelve Gifts from the Garden - Charlene Costanzo - Страница 12
ОглавлениеWhen you cross a bridge,
you take a break from this world!
—Mehmet Murat ildan
The first time I saw San Carlos Bay and glimpsed our destination on the other end of the causeway, joy surged faster than my heart could swell to contain it. My chest ached with an emotion I couldn’t name. I immediately felt deeply connected to this particular place.
Setting aside the AAA TripTik map that highlighted our route from Jamestown, New York, to Sanibel, Florida, I gaped at the expanse of turquoise water. My husband, our two young daughters, and I were initially silent, awed by what we saw.
Golden ripples reflecting the late afternoon sun twinkled like daytime stars to wish upon. Waves made by boaters intersected and formed mesmerizing patterns in shades of aquamarine. I heard “Wow” a few times. I said it myself as we crossed the three bridges and two tiny islands that make up the causeway. We cranked open our windows, all at the same time as fast as we could. A warm, sea-scented breeze cleared the car air and twirled our hair. A little more speed brought hot wind and laughter. On the final bridge, a group of pelicans roosted on the rail while a row of them glided single file above, like a welcoming committee.
On the shore to the right of the bridge, several bayfront houses stood well apart from one another. To the left of the bridge, there were a few low condominiums. Other than that, all we saw was green. Nothing man-made rose above the trees and foliage. The island seemed to exude a vibrant, humming strength. A peaceful strength of harmony and balance. It’s no wonder: nearly half the island is a protected wildlife preserve. Natural.
As the car passed off the bridge onto land, I felt as if I were coming home to a place I’d never been before. Although I fell in love with the island even before our car reached its shore, I didn’t imagine I’d be returning many times. Nor did I sense the lessons and gifts it had in store for me.
