And the forecast reads, "Nostalgia"

Feeling nostalgic today for reasons I can’t quite fathom. Was even tempted to stop and park by the Castillo de San Marco on my way to work this morning. The sun was already rising and I couldn’t help but be dazzled by the scene that was painted, as if just for me, over the Intracoastal Waterway.

Although it really comes as no surprise, one of the things I love most about living in St. Augustine is the easy access to the water. Though I may not go as often as I might like, I love stealing moments away to walk on the beach or sailing with my grandfather. Being on or near the water is often where I feel the most in tune with the world around me.

Some people are afflicted with wanderlust; others prefer to bury their roots deep and embrace a legacy. Fitting in with neither of those descriptions, I probably fall in best with the crowd that has a sort of sea fever, fitting in everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. Although I’m not quite as fond of the phraseology of the expression as it seems awful to associate such a wonderful mixture of chaos and whimsy with the likes of an illness, but I can’t ignore the “rightness” of it as I often feel sick with longing when I'm away from the water for any extended period.

I was a claustrophobic creature whilst living in Tallahassee. Though a beautiful parcel of land, I couldn’t help but feel landlocked, trapped due to the absence of any significant source of water nearby. I think John Masefield describes the sensation rather aptly in his poem, Sea Fever:

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

At any rate, I digress, I ramble, I dither. Probably should be taking a crack at those "real" words I'm supposed to be after.