Sunrise
Down by the water
It’s hard not to feel like every day I spend inside in Valencia is wasted. I mean, I have a job — that’s how/why I’m here. Just because a given Thursday is my first full day in my new home, it doesn’t mean I can just not work that day. I could, but not without guilt. I want the new job and the new boss and the new folks to be better now that I am here; so I worked that first day in the Awesome Flat.
I didn’t walk down to the beach, and I only really got out long enough to restock our cupboards. So be it. Another day wasted in Spain. But the days here are intended to just continue. If not Thursday, then Friday, right? Happily, that’s how it turned out.
Time zones and fascists (long story) got together to put Spain in an interesting position. The sun rises well after 7:00 a.m. and it stays light well after 8:00 p.m., so I was able to make it to the sunrise this morning before signing on for work. It was lovely, as sunrises usually are. Between the people out doing some early morning fishing, the cute young couple canoodling in the sand, and the Spanish version of mall walkers — old folk walking along the surf — I wasn’t alone in enjoying it, either.
It continues to be uncanny that I live here. There’s a specific feeling that goes with nearing the end of a vacation, where you stop and savor the good thing that’s happening while simultaneously knowing it’s just about to end. (I bet German has a word for it.) I keep having that feeling, but it’s false. I can repeat this morning’s walk to the beach at sunrise again and again. My brain just doesn’t believe it yet, and I can’t blame it. There’s been nothing in my life so far to demonstrate that this kind of contentment is long lasting. Well get over it brain, cause that appears to be the plan.
