Moving On

Things change. October’s bliss is January’s headache, and the thrill of 2010 can always turn to disappointment in 2013. Most of us are aware of the changing nature in all things human but depending upon the person or change, metamorphosis arrives either with surprise or a groan:  “I saw that coming.”

I made the decision in 2010 to leave Japan after many years and make my home on Florida’s east coast, less than 200 feet off the Atlantic Ocean. A tremendous change and one layered with possibilities both good and bad. One thing was certain: I was trading a crowded city life for one in a near paradise of ocean, surf, sand and cloud-filled blue skies—a place as different from Tokyo as the moon—and my first thought on looking out at the stunning vista outside my Florida windows was that living in this environment could go either way.

Newness, novelty and grand scenery always make change easy to bear. Some things at first seem difficult or unreasonable, but whatever the gripe it is soon painted over by the overwhelming scale of living on a beach. And though you’ve read a few books about life along a coastal environment, they are nothing to the experience of walking out your door every morning and encountering firsthand the power and diversity of nature. One morning walk on the beach can be colored by seashells or baby turtles, a burst of red-orange from a carpet of wildflowers growing on the dunes, an expanse of sand and water empty of even one other person. The next morning may find that same beach a dangerous place to be, lightning splitting the sky and wind-driven rain turning everything into a waterworld. 

I have catalogued a great many of those wonders over the past three years in the pages of this blog and most of those posts were fueled by the joy of living in an endlessly fascinating place. But like I said, things change.

The time has come to leave this beach and make my home in a place with different qualities, another setting calling my name. I’ve been defeated by the popularity of Florida beaches and the noisy throngs of vacationers they attract. These days I hear mainly the shouts and screechy frolicking of too many children and endure the ill-behavior of inconsiderate strangers inflicting their holiday activities on me and my home. Beer cans in the flowerbeds, randomly tossed cigarette butts, the midnight hoot ’n holler of college boys, the horrified screech of schoolgirls encountering a harmless sand crab on the walkway…

The sale of this property on one of the state’s golden beaches has not been difficult and to make the process even easier, moving out to make way for the new owner is unhurried. Time aplenty to transfer furniture, books and art to the new house. 

Moving from Japan back to the US in 2010 was one thing, and like that move this one too will involve new experiences and a different set of challenges. It promises to be interesting and as time allows I will try to keep a record of it all here on Scriblets. Come back another day to read about well water and wild turkeys.