Ides of March

Happy Ides of March!

I'm still in Daytona Beach spending a restful week with my baby sister who has become quite grown up. She works most of the time, which means I get to borrow her car and get into lots of trouble on my own. Yesterday, however, she took a day off, so we went on some little adventures together and met some interesting people. Hopefully one of these days I'll be able to add pictures.

Andrea drove us about 20 miles inland to a gem of a place: Hontoon Island State Park. It's an amazing park that reminded me of a mix of Thailand, Jurassic Park, and the Amazon. The place is an island, like the name suggests. You can't swim through the alligator-y waters, but there is a little ferry that will take you for free across the water. There weren't many or really any people at all.

The island was about 6 square miles probably, and it is really quite exotic. The whole place is covered in palm trees and huge, elegant Spanish moss trees. The water matched the sky, which was nearly royal blue, it seemed. We ate our little lunches under the huge mossy trees and watched some locals fishing. Then it was time to go on a little hike without any maps or anything. We found a trail that ended at an ancient Native American burial ground. At the trail head, signs told us how to speak calmly to black bears and how to avoid black widow spiders and other fun creatures.

Andrea and I tramped through the jungle, with nearly a full canopy of trees arching over our heads. At one point we saw other humans, and stopped to chat. The woman wore a "Kansas" sweatshirt, and the man wore an Indiana University ballcap. After trekking through sand and marsh and grass, we ended up at the burial grounds, which were covered in billions of tiny white seashells. Then we turned around to head the mile and a half back. No black bears or animals in sight.

We reached the little ranger station and "visitor store." And older couple sat in front eating ice-cream. Andrea and I walked by and the woman told us, "All the cute guys went to the left." I was confused, and Andrea just smiled. Random people seem to always be saying random things here. Andrea tried the door handle to the ranger station, but it was locked. An older park ranger man burst through the door asking what we wanted. We said we wanted to look in the little visitor store. He said, "I'll tell my twin brother and he'll meet you over there." We walked the five steps over to the store, and old park ranger man opened the door for us. His twin brother was himself. We walked inside the store, which was about the size of a closet, filled with faded postcards and fishing bait.

Andrea and I decided to call it a day, so we went to sit by the docked ferry and hope someone would eventually take us back to normal land. A younger park ranger man appeared, carrying wheelbarrows of trash. He told us rather excitedly that he could take us back across. So we climbed onto the ferry, and young ranger man seemed to drive us as slowly as possible. We had the opportunity to hear all about his life--he's probably my age and was in the army for five years, where he spent time in places like Somalia and Iraq. It was his dream to be a park ranger. I asked if it's what he expected (like wheelbarrowing trash and working with the old ranger man). He said he's having the greatest time. I was a little skeptical, but working on a nice island in Florida probably beats Iraq any day.

Last night after our Gilligan's Island adventure, I went with Andrea to her Campus Outreach meeting on campus. There were probably at least 40 students there and all kinds of people--white, black, Indian, athletes, ROTC... The meeting is called, "Gospel in Life," and it was encouraging to see how God is moving on the campus of Embry-Riddle and using people like Andrea to reach them.

Now it's Thursday and I just spent the morning at the beach. I purposefully went there earlier in the morning, so I could try to spend some time reading my Bible and reflecting. I found a nice little spot on the beach, but foot and vehicle traffic picked up pretty quickly. You can drive on the beach in Daytona, and it happens to be "bike week" here, where everyone in America who owns a motorcycle descends like a locust on the area. I couldn't really hear the waves--just the choppy noises from the bikes. There were also ancient ice-cream trucks driving by and a couple of older men using little radar devices to try to find metal in the sand. One of them walked right up to me, scanning the ground, and then asked me if I was okay. Maybe I didn't look okay to him, because I was hunched over my journal, trying to write out thoughts that couldn't come because I was a wee bit distracted. I assured him I was okay, and then decided to take a long walk on the beach instead.

I walked along the water for a while, soaking in all beauty of the ocean. Then I heard an older, cultured-looking guy sitting on a chair say to me, "Excuse me, miss!" I was thinking, "What on earth now?" I said, "Yes??" He replied, "I wanted tell you you have EXCELLENT posture. The way you walk is EXCELLENT." I had no idea what to say or do. I just told him, "Thank you. I was a dancer," and kept walking. Again, random things random people say.

Tonight I'm helping Andrea babysit some kids, so that's all for now! I just wanted to share some of the sights, sounds, and conversations of late.