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I admit it. I have caught the fever—spring fever that is. I sit at my desk rolling around story ideas that will take my feet to the sand. Anything I can do to make the workday happen on the shoreline is exactly what the doctor has ordered. Last week, I had the opportunity to walk out to the Kindred Spirit mailbox on Bird Island to write a story for an upcoming “Island Living” special section of the Beacon.
I didn’t really know what I thought I would find. But I found a place of quiet beauty and strength. I didn’t write the way I felt in the journals that day, but when I returned to the office I wrote this letter to the Kindred Spirit. Next time I am there I will place my letter in the mailbox.
Dear Kindred Spirit –
Your presence comforted me today. Allowed me to escape the pressures of day-to-day life and simply exist surrounded by the powerfulness of the sea. The beauty surrounded me on every side, quieting my soul.
I see why people come to the simple mailbox hidden between the dunes and the natural growth to sit and write. It is a place where no one judges, a place where spirits connect with those who have visited before.
I sat today and read the journal entries of those who have come to this place before me. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Sometimes I laughed out loud, nodded my head in agreement and even cried for the prince missing his princess. But mostly I sat in awe at how many people share their thoughts and souls.
The things others wrote in the journals moved me. It is comforting to know that this special place is always there, waiting for my return. Others call it their soul-searching spot, their solace, a place of freedom, their soul cleansing place. For still others it is a New Year’s Day tradition. To me, Kindred Spirit, you are a newly discovered friend.
A place I know I can come and sit in stillness watching the waves’ perpetual motion along the shoreline. A destination I know I can walk to get lost in my own thoughts.
Walking to you is a treasure in itself. Never knowing what the vast ocean has decided to leave in my path. Today I found lots of broken sand dollar pieces, seaweed, clamshells, snail shells and more.
I saw a dead seagull, washed upon the banks of the shore. I wondered what life as a seagull was like. What would it be like to have a bird’s eye view of this beautiful place? To see the water from above? Would I watch the people come to the beach and ponder their excitement as I watched them find a seashell? Or would I watch them and stalk them in hopes they brought food for me to plunder?
As the tide washed to shore taking the seagull back to the water, I snapped back to reality and continued my walk to my destination—the Kindred Spirit mailbox.
Like so many others, I had heard about your existence, but I still had my doubts. No more. I arrived for the first time and now I know why everyone talks about your solace. I will be back often.
I may not always leave a message for others to read but I will be there simply watching the waves, the birds and the other sea life. I will return often and will leave with joy in my heart, as I did today.
—A kindred spirit