Change of Scenery

A change of scenery is so refreshing! I needed one today and so I hopped on the ferry and headed to the mainland to meet a friend for dinner on the other side.

Waiting at the dock I watched a beautiful sleek classic wooden speedboat sedately drive by. The sound of it was gone by the time the ripples rolled up to the dock. How many people pass through our lives and leave ripples behind? I only thought of the positive ripples as I waited – an elderly couple in New Zealand, my niece who lived 9 months, elderly women I have spent time with gaining from their experience earned wisdom.

A picnic bench at the dock provides a good viewing spot to watch, to get out my journal and write. The other occupant of the bench wanted his own space and isn’t interested in conversation. We are joined by a woman and her two Jack Russell’s – well behaved ones. Pedestrians gather, waiting and ready for the ferry to roll in, unload, reload and sail out again, 7 sailings a day from this end. No one really talks as we stay in our own worlds.

Like sheep we all head down the ramp and onto the ferry, snippets of conversation here and there. Mainly we walk on, find a seat, or head to eat, and 40 minutes later walk off. Where are they going, or where did they come from? Who did they converse with today or who have they said goodbye to? What choices were made today? A mother copes with tired children, and she looks exhausted. Many commuters have their nose in a book or a newspaper. Muted conversations carry on around me. The engine hums and the boat vibrates as we move out. I read my book by Parker Palmer and jot in my journal. The sun came out today and the sailing is fine.

I step off on the mainland and head to a restaurant to meet a good friend and share pieces of the week. The clink of shoes on the ramp. Two friends are off to retreats this weekend and I share my thoughts for them with Abba as I head down the long walkway into the open air. Several other woman are on my heart – the heaviness of what they hold in the Light makes me run to Abba for them, with them. I replay a phone conversation with a special friend who spoke truth. I listened and I trust his words because I know he understands my heart. Sunshine is out this afternoon and its warmth is good on my skin, I inhale the sea air and breath deeply.

Two hours later, after good conversation I stand waiting for the gate to open. Then, like sheep, we walk onto the ferry, find a seat or head to eat. How predictable we all are. Where have they been? I chat with someone I know through work and he shares that his children are with his parents, his wife in another city and he works long hours on the tugboats. Knowing pieces of this family’s story, it has been a long tough road, but he still hopes for healing.

It’s dark when I get to the “home” side. We walk at different paces, and I look into other’s eyes. Some look back, others turn away, some have never looked up. Footsteps, the sound of many footsteps heading to the parking lot. Soft soled shoes have a soft scuff, hard heals echo in the cool evening. The days are getting shorter. Where is Jesus in this crowd? What do His footsteps sound like?
Heading up the long hill, almost home, I think that the change of scenery was so good! Watching people makes one feel alive. I feel alive tonight. It was His breath of extra to the ordinary. Oh it feels good! I felt those unforced rhythms of grace tonight.

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” Matthew 5:5 The Message