How fun it can be to realize the freedom of simply changing plans. How rarely do I see that as a freedom? How often do I fear it and its ripple effects on my illusion of control? How lovely is it to be able to wake up one morning, blow the plans, change course, and take a chance?

And, on top of that what a gift it is not only to see immediate family during a time when most are so isolated, but also connect with more distant family members. People that two weeks of annual vacation don’t permit me to see or prioritize. Folks with the same blood, similar tendencies and behaviors, interesting lives to get to know, and a huge web to recognize I am apart of?

It’s no wonder we were enchanted by this driveway full of long leaf pines, wood and metal workshops, old and renovated home, bushes full of camellias and azaleas, and most of all the most majestic marsh view, including the dolphins, wood stork, and sting rays floating by.

Should I be that surprised that these same relatives took their kids on a boat through the Mediterranean for a year? And then sailed around the world for another six years? Is it in my blood, this nomadic tendency?

Or are these ironies and harmonies just a part of the joy of discovery on a day of altered plans?

Two new books on my shelf: The Next Port and Where the Wind Blows

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