In between driftwood and strokes…


The day began with a dull ceiling of clouds and little bit by bit gave way to sun and scattered clouds. Trapped again within the confines of academics, I went straight to my office to work on homework to stay ahead of the game and though my intentions were great…my concentration was little. I cannot seem to get this case out of my head or the players that continue to wander about outside the confines of a cell. After fighting myself for hours, I finally gave in and returned to the book and my research. Words p0ured and questions percolated as page after page under ink slipped away from me.

And then I hit a brick wall.

Current with my information the book is at a stall until further information comes through to move me forward. Knowing that nature always is a way to release tension, I headed to the beach to clear away the night’s debris and use the energy built up in my muscles to remove the encroaching weeds and wayward pine straw that had built up among the rocks. As my hands worked, my mind wandered…free to take in whatever the universe saw worthy to deliver. The trees, an umbrella for my thoughts bent and bowed, submissive to the incoming weather.

In between driftwood and strokes of the beach rake, I took in the specific beauty of my purview. The neon variegated greens of spring have long given way to the more mottled evergreens of summer…now punctuated here and there with the early kiss of autumn to the Sweetgum trees that border the beach- painting leaves a bright yellow.

Change is in the air… you can see it, you can feel it. After another hour with my head into the wind and my muscles into the work– I released my need to follow normal protocol and decided to plow the furrowed fields of education on the morrow and let the rest of the day dictate itself. A few more hours behind the computer and a well deserved break, floating atop the waves later in the day, seduced me back into a more communal mood.

I took from the day what it had to give…and gave back to it what I felt I could afford. In between the bargain made between research and freedom I found a few more interesting details that may build a stronger bridge between the my POI for the Boston Strangler, the Columbus Strangler and the Atlanta Child murderer…not Wayne Williams.

Feathers on the beach and in the water confirm that new information is to follow…

I wait with baited breath!


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