My last morning on island, I had every intention to sleep in.
Relax. No need to rush. Sleep.
I had waited months to have my mini retreat, and to stay at my favorite Chincoteague Island hotel. The spring round-up was happening that day as well. It's when they bring the wild ponies in to give them health checks. It's a special time on island, and I didn't even know it was happening when I booked my trip.
My plans of a slow, intentional morning were set. I would use the hotel sauna, drink hot tea on the patio, and do some journaling.
But then, like clockwork, I got restless. It's hard for me to lay around in bed when I wake up. And I've been like this for years. I'm that person that springs out of bed, sing-songy and bright-eyed. And it all starts at 5 a.m. I've been told it's annoying (I'm annoying). But you know what? I'm annoyed that no one else is up!
So, I make the easy decision to scratch my morning plans and go watch the sunrise on neighboring Assateague Island.
I avoided the traditional sunrise at the beach bit, and snuggled up to the marshland. I knew exactly where the sun would rise because I was there the day before. I hopped out of my Jeep, knowing I had about fifteen minutes before she's fully up.
And then along came Patty, and her Pennsylvania tags.
She quietly stepped out of her car, and stood off to the side. Before she arrived, it was just me and the comforts of the marsh. And Patty could feel that.
I could tell that she didn't want to interrupt my quiet moment. And I found that refreshing. She was treating me the way I try to treat others. So, I smiled and said, "Good morning." I told her that the sun would be coming up between the two trees if she'd like to watch the sunrise with me.
And she did.
She reached into her car and grabbed a fancy camera and tripod. Being considerate of me, she set her tripod off to the side and snapped a few photos. We were quiet for a bit, observing our surrounds. And being in awe of what was unfolding in front of us.
Patty and I started to make small talk, that turned into big talk, if only for a few minutes. I found out that she and her husband drove in last night from Pennsylvania. They had never been to Chincoteague before.
It was also her first official day of retirement, and all she wanted to do was visit the island. She was a wildlife photographer before her husband became ill. For years, she had to work a different job to support her family while her husband healed. And he did heal!
But now it was her turn. It was time for Patty to live out her dreams once more and be a wildlife photographer.
I congratulated her, and told her she came at a good time. And that she may want to visit the round-up that evening to get some shots of the ponies coming in with her fancy camera.
We were in sync with each other, and with the sun.
Our hearts rose as morning color washed across our faces. I told her, "Let me take your picture; you're officially retired!"
She skipped in front of the sun, leaned into her tripod with the biggest grin, and gave me a thumbs up. I snapped a bunch of photos with her phone, while I cheered her on.
It was magical. She was magical.
Her joy was palpable. Gratitude flitted in her eyes.
We took one last glance at the sunrise together, and breathed it in. Two women giving thanks for the beauty set before them, and for all that's to come.
Blessings to you, Patty from Pennsylvania.
And what a sunrise it was!
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