Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 21 Comments

Weekly Photo Challenge: Treasure

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The Bohemian and I had made a last-minute, end-of-the-day decision to go catch the sunset. We threw an orange, some crackers and two beers in a backpack, and made our way to one of our favorite spots on the island: the beach where we first met.

Once on the sand, we wandered along the shore, taking in the salt air, letting time slow. As my toes moved through infinite grains, I discovered a shard of pottery, its diamond-esque shape etched with a blue feather. Perhaps a harbinger of sorts.

Because little did I/we know that before that sun went down, we would be enraptured in an essence of love. Some all-encompassing infiltration that seemed to gleam in the light, reflecting off the sea, moving with the breeze in the trees.

There had been no plan on his part. But there it was. The Bohemian was feeling it, no words, but I could sense it.

So when the syllables finally moved from his mouth to the air: “Jessica Lynn Dofflemyer, will you marry me?” I soaked in every sound and searched deep within my heart.

There was love. Our love. This love. The all-encompassing Love with the capital L. A Love that is here for everyone.

Once in a while you find someone with whom you can share that love…it is a true treasure.

And to that, (and to the Bohemian) I said ‘yes.’

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/14/photo-challenge-treasure/

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 4 Comments

Fresh Perspective

It’s been one week of living in our new home. This is the ‘dream house’ I saw seven years ago, and have been holding as vision in my heart ever since. Though it’s still settling in as a true reality, yes, I am actually dwelling within these walls now.

Having been built about 30 years ago, there are layers of lives that have passed through the rooms of this house. We are slowly clearing cobwebs and cleaning cupboards, as we get to know the personality of this beautiful abode that has welcomed us to nest here.

Though some may argue that tasks like getting your kitchen in working order may rank  a higher priority, cleaning the windows seemed an even worthier starting point. Jeb and the Bohemian worked in tandem, washing both sides.

Gotta love a clear perspective…

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Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 4 Comments

Hippie Angel

All I could do was notice.

Notice that birds sounded in the wet morning. See the waves rolling in mountainous sequence, soaking the shoreline where my toes were sinking in.

All I could do was watch myself, immersed in nature spectacular, yet round shouldered, hunched and worrying with a burdened mind. My story was a good one. The tale that stated the case for exactly why – this time, at least, oh yes, most definitely – I had every reason to be fretting. There were finances at stake, stability, livelihood. These were topics that had a right to overtake the morning.

Stress reasons well. I couldn’t argue its points. All I could do was observe that I was walking on a beautiful day and not a bird, nor a tree, or the breeze seemed to be a bit upset or preoccupied. And there I was – human that I am – moving one step in front of the other, in a paradise tainted by my own inner turmoil.

Not quite fully drowning in it (observation, my one and only lifeline), I held the proverbial rope of hope and made a request to the day: please help me remember.

My head stayed swamped with thought while my feet continued sifting through sand – that literal marker of time, so vast, though even its infinite grains could not penetrate my wrestling mind. I did notice a figure ahead, walking towards me and I glanced to my watch, continuing my pace. Work would start soon.

Backlit by morning sunlight, glowing golden, the lithe frame of a young man came closer into view as our paths neared crossing. He was probably about 21, his bare chest still boy-like and freshly pink from over-exposure to tropical sun. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and a hand-woven satchel was slung diagonally across his shoulders.

His face told all. The gentle smile spreading across it held no secrets (but for the greatest one that everyone forgets). I could plainly see that he remembered. His eyes were open windows, filled with awe and wonder and happiness. As we passed one another and exchanged “good mornings,” he did not look away. He gazed at me with serene endearment, a genuine openness. All-receptive, not just to me personally, but to all of it. To the moment.

Like a babe in an adult body, this hippie angel seemed to be experiencing the day as if for the first time, reverent and in wonder. Alive.

I continued walking in one direction as he walked the other, leaving a dusting of sweetness in his wake. His innocence and simplicity bathing me in remembrance. All I could do was notice. So touched, I felt like crying.

photo courtesy of Jewell Willett
photo courtesy of Jewell Willett