Pairs
By: Peggy Willms
(3 min read)
Everything seemed to come in twos this morning. I’m hanging out in one of my favorite spots. I’m sure you can guess where…good job…the beach. I am very aware of how blessed I am to live where I am most happy. I have written so many blogs about my love for the ocean. Many people want to live on a lake so they can fish, or they want to live in the mountains so they can hike. Some love the seasonal temperature swings and volatile, unexpected weather, and you couldn’t get them to move if you begged them. Some don’t care where they reside because their heart is where their home is, regardless of the location. My happy place has always been where the water crashes along the sand. And with that comes warmer temperatures, humidity, and the sun. YAHOO. Fun in the sun. I never want to live where the temperature is lower than my age.
I consider myself a very observant person with high intuition, and behavior is, quite frankly, one of my addictions. It doesn’t matter if the behavior is human, animal, or the serendipitous dance of the Universe. And here are my observations this fine morning…
Pairs. Happy duos are everywhere. Most people walking along the beach were walking in pairs. Not groups of three or four. Two.
An older couple made me laugh so hard that I nearly spit my coffee out. They strolled along hand and hand. Soon he entered the ocean and stopped to stand in one spot waist-deep, which generally wouldn’t seem odd. However, it was his lady’s behavior that caught my eye. She began staring at her foot, shifting the sand as if waiting patiently for the grocery store cashier to holler, “Next.” I continued watching him and immediately thought, “Oh my God is he urinating.” And without going into too much detail, let me tell you my suspicions were confirmed. Soon he exited the water, and off they went hand in hand. Now that was quite a pair.
A few minutes later, a pair of kayakers worked their way along the shore. Not one, but two. Within 30 minutes, another couple passed on their paddle boards. I don’t know if you have paddle boarded before, but it takes a fair amount of balance and core strength. They had to be 65-70 years old. Their boards were so close, and their unison paddling was a beautiful site.
Along came a pair of chatty seagulls scooting their orange feet across the sand. Every ten steps or so, they lowered their heads, pecked at the water, and continued on their merry way searching for breakfast.
About an hour later, I noticed a group of fishermen who set up shop at dawn. Good fishing before the sun rises. They hover around a rock pile where I am sure there are loads of fish coming in at high tide. But this morning was different. They were broken off into pairs. Their coolers were in pairs, their chairs were in pairs, and even their fishing poles were dug into the water in pairs. What I love about shore fishing is that it attracts dolphins, and sure as heck, along came two of them. I know they can swim in shallow water, but these guys were really close to me. What a blessing that site was. What a pair!
My thoughts soon darted to a blog I wrote a few weeks ago about all of the doves around me, and how they mate for life. Yet another example of pairs.
What was this “pair” message for me today? It immediately felt obvious and very simple.
We have a few necessities in life: a roof over our head, food in our mouth, clothes on our back, and feeling loved or feeling a sense of belonging. Today’s observation certainly backed that. A sense of being loved and belonging. Life is intended to be shared. We are designed to bond with others, feel safe, and trust in something outside of ourselves. Life can be lonely, scary, and unpredictable. But it is undoubtedly more precious and exciting when you experience it with another. And today, all of these dynamic duos did just that—they were living life together.
And finally, I realized I had inherited yet another one of my grandmother’s traits. I talk about her a lot. She loved going to go school shopping with me every summer. She never entered the stores. Instead, she would sit on a bench in the middle of the mall as I bounced from store to store, and she would people watch. Her smile said it all. She was filled with joy as she leaned sideways with crossed legs looking like she was posing for Vogue. And this morning, I became my grandmother—perched in the center of the beach, legs crossed, and joyously people and bird watching. Oh, and with a smile on my face.
