I’m a writer and don’t care about material things—fancy cars or big houses. I’m more focused on experiencing life.
But when a man discovers his inspiration has dried up, I’d say that’s a pretty good time for him to take inventory of his life.
So, with that in mind, that’s why I came here to Florida’s Gulf coast, to see if a change of scenery and ocean breezes might breathe new life into me.
As it was, nothing in my life was working and I had no attachments so I figured I was starting over with a blank canvas
It wasn’t until the third or fourth day in my seaside cottage that I felt lonely, mainly because I was ending each night before a blank page and it reminded me that I couldn’t escape the desolation of myself.
In truth, I had changed locations, but was no closer to unburdening my heart.
It’s a strange thing with writers—this need to bring forth out of nothingness. But I’ve never tired of the wonder that it happens at all. Well, I should say it used to happen with me, but right now, I’m blocked.
So after four days of facing down a blank page, it seemed appropriate I take a break and get out into the open air.
I wandered along the shore and ended up at the Rod and Reel Restaurant built at the end of a long pier.
It was lunch and I had to wait for a table. I decided to go out and sit on the pier and watch the waves until one of the wait staff summoned me.
My eye was drawn to a long line of cumulus just above the horizon looking like puffs from a steamship.
“You love the sea, don’t you?”
I turned to see an older man talking to me.
“Actually, I do,” I said frankly, “it’s the only place where I feel at home.”
He nodded as if that tallied with his estimation of me.
He was fishing off the edge of the pier, and every now and then he’d reach into a white bucket and toss a fish to a pelican sitting on a pier post beside him.
As if reading my thoughts, he said, “This is Gus, and you can call me Cap’n Bill—everyone does, leastways around here.”
“Roger Greer,” I smiled.
“You like animals then, do you?”
I was surprised—I hadn’t said anything, “As a matter of fact, I do. Were you able to tell that?”
The old man shook his head. “Naw, I was just watchin’ Gus here eyeing you, like he does me. I think you’ve made a new friend.”
At that moment I heard my name called by one of the staff, and got up to go. “Nice meeting you, Cap’n—and you too, Gus,” I chuckled.
“We’ll be seeing you around, Young feller—it’s a small island.”
I waved and went off to enjoy my lunch and when I came out later the two were gone.
I started back along the beach and must have walked about a mile before I heard a flapping sound behind me and as I turned around, Gus, the pelican soared over my head and landed on the beach in front of me.
I was astounded he recognized me and didn’t seem wary of me at all, even when I approached him.
When I got within a foot of him, he reached out his beak and tugged at my shirtsleeve. I was taken aback, but then he flew a few yards up the beach and settled in the sand waiting for me.
When I got up to where he was, he flew on as if leading the way.
This happened several times, until at last he veered off towards a cottage.
I waved at him good naturedly, and began to continue on home, but he flew back and stopped in front of me, blocking my way.
Again, he tugged at my sleeve and flew a few yards in the direction of the cottage. Curious, I followed.
“Hello, there Gus!”
A gray haired woman sitting on an Adirondack chair called out, and Gus immediately flew over and sat beside her. She affectionately patted his head, and he let her.
She squinted up at me and said, “Would you like to sit down?” She motioned to an empty chair beside her.
I decided to go with the flow.
“You must be Roger,” she smiled, “I’m Rose.” She offered me her hand and I shook it.
“How did you know my name?”
“Oh, the Captain said he met you and figured Gus would eventually bring you along.”
I was flabbergasted. “How could he possibly know that?”
“Simple. Gus only knows three people—and now, you make four.”
“Who’s the third person?” I had to ask.
“Oh, you’ll eventually meet her in due time.”
A tingling sensation ran up my spine.
Something profound was happening to me and life was demanding something of me, whether I could do it or not.
