Palms of Zephyr
Tommy Sands

            It was around 7 30 on Saturday night. The moon had an odd glow around it like a sharp crescent painting the sky. Later in the evening I would see the entire moon gleaming through with a fine pasty gloss. For a brief moment there was harmony, the stars, the moon, the cool mist escaping from my breath. Bliss came at the most inopportune moment.

            I slept and awoke fumbled at 4 30 in the morning. I had to catch a 5 o’clock rendezvous to leave for Albany, New York. After loading up the vans and gently acquainting myself with the rest of the group, we departed.

            Flights, especially now a days after 9/11 were more hassle than convenience. As soon as I stepped into the airport, someone must have farted because the security was brought up to a code orange. During the mandatory and extensive precautionary procedure I was brought through a machine that didn’t want to function the first three times. I later found out the machine was used to detect drugs and other smell-able paraphernalia. After successfully being assessed I was able to proceed. Next on the agenda was breakfast. Instead of having pre-made or already processed food, I went right for plain tuna, a banana, and vitamin water. On the line, I met another wrestler. His name was Tony and he was the typical bonehead. As soon as everyone got online the flight was first delayed an hour then two, then the plane was switched. The irony of the line was at first we were all the last ones on the line. Then the gate was switched directly behind us. First shall be last, and last shall be First.”

            I read most of both plane rides. The most interesting part was on the first plane to Baltimore, where I met a man who was looking in a crossword puzzle for names of famous artists. Salvador Dali and Pollock were a few of the names. Speed forward, to our landing in Fort Myers, Florida. After napping on the plane and being refreshed, I had a new sense of energy. Getting off the plane was a relief because the only thing I could imagine the entire time on the plane was, if for some reason, the plane had lost a wing or crashed, how I would position myself to land if I was free falling from 30, 000 feet.

            The first task was to rent cars to transport us for our weeklong voyage. After designating drivers and stuffing bags into the trunks and backseats, we were on our way. Our navigator was not exactly Christopher Columbus, but we managed to gallop around the new terrain. Destination acquired. Our abode was a humble single story house that was modest to say the least. The night started out charitable with everyone being extra friendly and polite. For dinner everyone decided to go to Applebee’s. We ate there and I for some reason or another received a free desert. No complaints. The night drifted along slowly through consistent chatter and social sarcasm which helped to leaven the groups reliability.

            The next morning was brought to life quickly. First by a six-thirty phone call from a wrong number and secondly by an 8 am inconvenient alarm clock that was quickly adjusted to a tardier 8:30. Breakfast was a swift two glasses of milk, a banana, yogurt, and a raisin bagel. Once everyone was settled in, we played a few card games and continued to warm each others presence as the outside world of “spring break” began to melt. Not only was it snowing back up in the north east but the sun was permanently touching the delicate pale skin of each of us. A feeling that is not so quickly forgotten.

            Next stop was the City of Palms. The name is more beautiful than the modern cantankery that blessed its spirit. There was not a cloud in the sky and a gentle wind was constantly blowing. The trick of this was that you wouldn’t feel yourself getting burnt but before it was too late; your skin would have already been tainted. Sunscreen was a must. The facade did not last long since everyone was so ambitious to get to the beach. True paradise even to a blind, death dulled fool. The moment your feet hit the angel soft sand and the sound of the ocean filled your spirit, ecstasy was inevitable. One could look as far as the eye could see and not be satisfied. To the right and to the left, there was nothing but sand and ocean.

            The ocean itself can have two meanings. The first can be that of a sublime, breath taking aura that leaves one speechless. The other could be that of resentment. It honestly depended upon one’s mood. While at the beach, we all played catch and later began a game of two-hand touch football. The moment that caught me the most on that beach was the sunset. It was truly perfect. It wasn’t like those times where you would stare at the sun and then look an hour later and it would have moved. No this time it was alive; the burning bright ball of luminosity filled every receptacle in the eye. Set just above an island of hotels on the horizon, the sun slowly crept to its final resting place within the ocean. Each inch felt like a plethora of multitudes hinged onto a single emotion. As the last bit of the sun snuck behind the blue sphere we departed ways with the gods and began our nightly prowl upon the boardwalks.

            The next morning came without warning. Neither I nor my roommates alarms went off and we were awoken by our neighbors knocking. After plowing down breakfast for a second day, we went on our way to build houses for Habitat for Humanity. The day was mostly organized and ran smoothly. It’s amazing how much pettiness is pushed aside when volunteers are conspiring rather than unions and profiteers. After suffering from pre-arthritis stiffness and eye burning sunscreen, the day was over. I was delving into my Hemingway book, as the females in the car talked about past relationships and other nonchalant musings. The beach was our destination.

            Arriving at the beach around four o’clock, the sun was high in the sky and beating down upon our sandblasted faces. Clarity polished itself upon the speechless souls of each of us. After playing football and flirting for a while, I decided to go for a walk. On my walk I pondered Nietzsche and Thoreau. Wondering exactly what it was that they wished to accomplish or bring into meaning. To me the ocean was simply two things. The first was a natural motion that evolved and cycled itself around the moon and the seasons. The second was that of a spiritual base. The main reason behind such a justification was the sublimity that it created when taken in all at once.

            The ocean had its own beauty. The waves that crashed upon the shore breathed life into the dry sand. Each wave landing upon the coastline was a torment of tranquility. While the surface is a whirlwind of algae and seaweed, the ground, the firm foundation that is the sand that we stand upon is massaged into a magnificent mass of blueprints.

            Later during a walk, I talked with an elder man with whom I shared the views of my philosophy. With which I imposed the idea that everything was materialistic and that my generation was a withered hyacinth suckling on the teat of a dried well.  While our conversation was interrupted by both high tide and various distractions on the sandy ground, I managed to express my views. 

            Leaving with a heightened sense of self, I felt that my day had not been as monotonous as I had feared. Leaving the beach, I read some more Hemingway and traveled back home to the one level house. Diner was chicken and rice. After that the group played a few games and kept up with casual conversation.

            The night wound down around eleven o’clock. I ended the night with a shower and a swift shave. I said goodnight to the group and drifted off to sleep. The moon glowed brightly outside, Orion and the Big Dipper publicized brightly in the clear night, in the southern sky. Through out the day, the past became remembered, the future was still waiting to happen, and the present became a forgotten memory like a seashell upon the ocean floor. It would take a unique individual and a clever eye to find that same casing and be able to embrace that same recollection.

            Wednesday morning brought itself to life with an early sunrise and a blue jay chirping outside of my door on a power line. Outside, I couldn’t help but notice the plant life in all its excessiveness. While Florida’s dirt was made of mostly sand and shells, there grew cactus and a variety of flowers. Each that tended to bloom at night and stretch themselves towards the moonlight. After brushing my teeth outside and eating a relaxed breakfast the work day began. We worked and extra hour because our lunch which consisted of sandwiches from a local deli had been delayed in traffic. As I progressively finished Hemingway’s Moveable Feast I was constantly interrupted with small talk or congratulations for being such an avid reader. Undulations at minimum.

            After relaxing at the house for a few hours, we proceeded to a local church that would house us for both dinner and some television. After eating the corn beef and cabbage, I ate two more rolls and proceeded to devour the key-lime pie. There was no beach today and I couldn’t help but feel at a loss for something. Perhaps it was the silence where the waves used to crash. The night was more of a personal accommodation for those who wanted to watch television and those who really did not care which way the tide of spirits pulled the group. While still at the church, we played various games such as ping pong and air hockey, even some foosball.

            Before relaxing and watching television, I sat down at two different tables hoping to find some form of life beside old bags of skeletons that had wasted their wholes lives just to retire down in Florida and still come up north to visit family. I would occasionally find a human but the majority of the folks aside from the curator of the church were merely apes without thick body hair.

            They say that you can tell a person by looking into their eyes. It is through that eye contact regardless of gender, that one see’s who that person truly is. For today, it is difficult to look someone in the eye and tell the entire truth, let alone minimize exaggeration. Truly humble people are out there, it is just difficult to decipher them from the rest of the baboons. Many people like to report the news rather than actually listen to it.

            How is that individuals can go on for hours and talk about the same nonsense and do the same things day after day without any sense of mediocrity. The true definition of insanity is the same fixation over and over again, previously knowing the outcome, consciously doing the same things, and expecting something spontaneously rich to transcend. If I were to live in Florida and not spend at least half of my time exploring I would surely go mad.

            The day was almost a complete waste except for the fact that I did not spend any money and also got through my second book. The first book, Anthony Kiedis’s Scar Tissue had brought to my mind the idea of neither sleeping with another girl nor releasing any of my chi. The idea was that if all the energy built up, it would be both more erotic and more powerful when let go. Sex for me was a lot like the ocean itself. It could start out smooth and rhythmic during low tide and later reach its high point during the climatic tide of my strides. Regardless, there was always a simple passion that I could find no matter what mood I was in. That was the true beauty of such art.

            Besides, in this day and age a week isn’t enough time to do anything. There is a lifetime of memories built up before and after that one week. Spring break was a time for couples and new friendships. Of course for every alpha male, the first initial reaction is to get your groove on. It is not until the humane side of the body comes out, that one realizes how over idealistic one can become. Which in my opinion is natural anyways. Aside from a narcissistic notion, there was nothing wrong with a little fun on a spring break trip. That is as long as no one else in the group found out.

            The night wound down around 12 o’clock a.m. with which Orion and the Big dipper shown brightly next to the full moon. It was the first time in a while, that I could feel peace in the night sky. There was a sense of silence among the clouds as they roamed past the white orb. Something does not necessarily have to make a physical sound to be heard.

            The middle of the day was relaxed. We started work late today and ended somewhat early. The work was frustrating. The sun was beating down and regardless of how much sunscreen I seemed to put on. So now I was burnt like a lobster with no tan in sight. Tonight we were attending a country club and receiving a free dinner. While waiting we discussed the red light district of Amsterdam and how amazing it was that other countries outside of America, shut down if one of their teams was playing in the World Cup. Something that in my eyes was admirable. I couldn’t fathom the idea that an entire economic system would stop simply because of a soccer game. America doesn’t even shut down when we loose two towers and over one thousand lives. What replaces it is simply a memorial which is then taxed and priced accordingly.

            I sat there and thought about the fact that this country continued to exist with or without your participation. That was truly when I realized how small and insignificant each of us was. Our small petty lives meant nothing to the macroeconomic system that geared each and everyone one of our lives in some way. A system now that none of us can ever break away from. Is that what America has really becoming or is it simply the shadow of what we are all too afraid of being. When did the machine or system that we created become something that was emphasized more than a human being?

            It is truly a sad day when a dollar becomes worth more than a human life. It is only when such beauty as sandy beaches and volunteer help come together to exist. To affirm life that precariously inches its way forward after a 2,000 year recession. Not to mention that issues of race, financial background, and personality tend to dissipate during such an experience. When resentment turns into collaboration. True friendship embodies itself in what first started out as first awkward burps which later turns into conversation.

            I find it easier to be in a room with complete strangers. There are no assumptions, judgments, or demands from one individual to the other. Not to mention the majority of the people I met outside of my age group required transportable oxygen. But nonetheless it is still wonderful to look into those wrinkled and sunken eyes and enjoy that minute of humanity before it turns into carbon monoxide and dissipates within the atmosphere.

            The other thing that amazed me was that those people and the sandy waves on the beach would still be alive and well without my presence. The inanimateness that instilled itself into my mind was where the memory harbored itself. That was where it became mine. It was neither something of the past as reminiscence nor something to look forward to in the future. It was the present. Just as quickly as the UV rays burned themselves into my flesh, the synapses of my brain recorded the pleasantries of the city of palms.

            Dinner was another spiritual experience. There was free dinner which consisted of darkened grouper and French fries. The sun set directly in front of us and left a mesh of colors to paints the sky’s canvas. As the sun slowly set the atmosphere became more and more surreal, leaving each of us a different perspective of the sea. As the pink and orange clouds roamed silently in the sky. I asked our dinner guest what made him happy in life. He quickly responded with his family. He told me that a lot of his friends had become addicted to work. That it even happened to him sometimes. He said that being with his wife and his family was like nothing else. While I was only able to pull him aside for a second, this successful man, rich and limitless found his heart in the humbleness of family life.

            As the warm wind blew and the sun gently went below the clouds we all walked and took pictures on the beach. The stars finally came out and it was dark. The echoes of the valiant sun set still lingered as we all filled with natural joy. Everyone became playful and happy. It was a fantastic feeling. There was no pain and no sorrow as we danced like flames in the earth’s fire. Only eternity kissed the lips of each of us as we swooned and swayed with the breeze and the warm waters of the marina floor. Those same turbulent waves produced the same foundational beauty and I once again found myself at peace. Before going to bed, I looked at the stars once more and reminded myself, they are only stars.

            Before I crawled into bed, I remembered just how harmonious that sunset was. I told myself that I would constantly chase that feeling as long as it revealed itself to me once and a while. Which I did not know for certain to be a fact. Regardless, I had felt it. If I could feel it once, I could most certainly feel it again. And again. The only trick was to experience that awe-inspiring sublimity each and every day. That would be true transcendence.

            Friday went smoothly, everyone worked hard and it was our hottest day yet. While I basically nailed 16 inch nails all day I was able to find myself spiritually. No matter how frustrating the people around me became, I would constantly remain comfortable with myself. The day dragged on between the end of work and until dinner. The group aside from two or three other people decided to play wiffle-ball. I relaxed and finished the first chapter of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany. The book sustained itself as interesting, while I relaxed in the air conditioning.

            Dinner would be the Olive Garden provided by a local protestant church. A few nights back at the same church everyone had pointed out that such Protestants were very friendly. Both compared to people up north in general and also at churches. What I found amazing was the ability for strangers to communicate once again. When an event or a dinner is provided through volunteer or charity, there is an overwhelming sense of peace accompanied with such giving.

            At first I thought it was a crock of shit, but I soon realized that someone I did not know was going to have a house to stay in from my volunteer work. When they say, “You get what you give in this life.” I can finally start to see this. There is no tension between the people when there is no financial or social aspect implanted. Now, this does not demoralize the idea of community or emphasis such words as herd followers to leave such volunteers shortchanged, It is an act of self sacrifice that enables the group to focus all their individual energies onto one main platform. That in itself is harmony. For example, each individual wave in the ocean does not define the sea. It is a group of waves that crash upon the sandy shores that creates the engravings that steal so many minutes from the lives of human beings. Each wave sacrifices itself to the shore, but it is through that sacrifice that such beauty is created. Harmony is then what is internalized.

            I only banged my hand with the hammer twice today and each one was only a mild thrust. My triceps did not get as burnt as bad as yesterday and the Aloe Vera lotion was starting to soothe the scalded skin. The air conditioning did not help much or perhaps it was the open doors in the entire duplex that kept the room from cooling off. The problem was at night it would get to be around sixty degrees and getting blasted with cold air during the night wasn’t exactly helping to clear my sinuses.

            What really stuck in my mind today was the idea of God, Something that is not often brought up but easily one of the consistent thoughts running through my head. People are always telling me that there is a God but I like to imagine god in the own version. I’m sure I wont start any religious wars with such blasphemy but I like to think of whatever higher power this out there as that harmony that is found in nature. Imagine that there was a harmonious balance that was the perfect being. Would this type of being ignore the elements of fear, jealousy, and lust? Or would this God balance such concepts with the contrasting elements hope, admiration, and love?

            In my personal opinion, and perhaps through human limitation, I can not imagine such a divine being. That may even be the beauty of it. Something that is inconceivable can not posses arbitrary limits. Which I feel is what hinders such characteristics as charity and self-sacrifice. The one thing I see in all divinities is the element of sacrifice. But again how could such perfection associate itself with the human being. Say for a second there was not a god. Such charity and sacrifice would be the sole responsibility of humans. So would the elements I mentioned earlier. Only the human being could change his destiny, which in my opinion wouldn’t be such a bad deal in the long-run.

            Now without a limited or pre-determined destiny, life and time would be the only limits of the human being. By not forcing one’s self into the economic Markey, rather not becoming a psychological slave, the world would be yours to enjoy. Thus such acts of charity and self-sacrifice could only be recognized by other humans.

            Dinner was a minute proportion of ziti and spaghetti from the Olive Garden. To wash down such a delicacy there was water and unsweetened iced tea. After eating dinner everyone briefly played foosball and ping pong. After a half hour of games, we voyaged to a local arcade and miniature golf arena. After going on two rounds of go-carts, we settled into the batting cages. After hitting the ball a few times, I found an immense amount of stress alleviated from my body. I felt like a little kid again among so many games and miscellaneous activities. Each one echoing a different part of my childhood. Both positive and negative. I don’t know if anyone else felt this way because no one really interacted during this escapade. We all kind of went from section to section, enjoying the fruits of our weeklong labor. After all what is work without some playing mixed in?

            Tomorrow was my last day of habitat. I could not help but feel overjoyed to be leaving such manual labor. Not only had the sun taken a toll on my spirit but also my skin. The day would be a half day of labor and then an existential experience amongst the waves of the city of palms. My emotional state was that of comfort. I felt secure and content with myself for whom I was. Not the person I had wanted to present myself as. I was able to enjoy this thing called life to its fullest capacity. In essence it was a type of simple harmony presented to me in the humblest way possible.

            Finally, the week long experience had come to an end. What perfect place to spend it other than the beach. We got to the beach around one o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was high. I immediately applied what I thought was waterproof sun tan lotion and enjoyed the nuke warm water. After experiencing the joys of such leisure I began to become restless. I laid in the sun for a while and turn bright red like a lobster. The interesting thing about sunburn is the heat and warmth from the sun stay with you in your skin. It is almost like the sun’s energy is transferred into your body. This is but one way that the world around you becomes the world that you are in.

            While the rest of the group either went jet skiing or basked in the sun’s vitality I walked around the market which was selling various tourism items. There was a wide array of accessories from face paintings to turtle necklaces. All these items to choose from and I would let my natural sense guide me through the rows of propaganda. My goal was to find a bracelet of some sort for a significant other back home in the northeast tundra.

            I finally landed upon an ankle bracelet that was made out of magnetic material. It had black, white, and passion red beads incorporated into its character. It was between an all black one and this one that I held massaging between my fingers. After a moments pause, I gave the lady ten American dollars for the bracelet. I immediately made the bracelet special whether it was or not. So since I thought it was significant it began to embody altruistic value. I coveted this bracelet with such revelry that I almost became possessed by it.

            The red symbolized three things to me. First it would symbolize passion that I and my significant other had shared for almost two months. The second was that of beauty representing that actual person I was giving the bracelet to. Finally, I wanted the wristlet to become organic. So I commutated it with a red rose, which in my opinion could envy nothing but Mother Nature herself.

            The black I would identify with hardship, the crueler side of human nature that if not respected would easily humble both my relationships and my own ego. What can we know about day, happiness, and passion without burning in the sight of depravity first? One could associate such a color with reverence. For example, what would this white page be without the black splotches of letters that create this document?

            The white was the most important and specifically saved for last. It represents perfection. Something strived for but not yet achieved by mankind. Something that I consciously or unconsciously would fester into my mind for the rest of my days. Now here is the true beauty of this armlet. Every one of this colors is bound to the other through this circle of magnificence. It is again that harmony that I attempt to see in everyday life.

            The rest of the night went smoothly except for the grouper that I ate at dinner. It has been sitting in my stomach for the past four hours and every burp reminded me of its sea worthiness. After our last dinner as a group we were able to wander the streets for an hour between seven and eight before we had to take the trolley back to the parking lot. I had been sidetracked from the group for about fifteen minutes in which I wandered the streets of Fort Myers Florida alone. I did not feel panicky or lost, I just felt like a warm breeze floating along the Pacific. It is through such inner peace that one could become an individual who does not feel the need to be a social creature. I thought to myself one last time how those waves crashed along the beach and created such authentic craftsmanship. Could a human ever posses such a natural quality while still remaining humane and humble?

            Time would only tell and if the ocean’s influence in the past week had any substantial meaning then its spirit would carry with me like those warm pacific zephyrs that slowly made their way around the globe.

            But for now, I am going to sleep. Burnt and alive I could breathe freely. I could live. I perceived my old habits becoming new addictions. I could distinguish the waves of my life crashing upon the shores of society. Some receding back into the harbor and others forever soaking into the sands of time. The tide was coming in.

 

 

Alternative Ending

            The morning air was still. Not a single breeze passed through the sunrise. I woke up tired and anxious to get home. Outside, the sun had just breached the horizon and I could still see the moon. Everyone else was still asleep. I reminisced back to the beach and wondered if there were waves in this stagnate morning of motionless air. To my left there was an American flag that hung drooped. We had cleaned the apartment the night before so everyone was able to sleep in and wait for our nine a.m. departure.

            For a brief second during that sunrise time stopped. But I now knew that moment would forever be internalized in my memory. A place where there are all sorts of oceans, all sorts of waves, and various grains of sand. There was harmony and there was chaos. There was that morning still air and there were those impressionistic waves that crashed upon my consciousness. The city of palms had taught me what no text book could ever educate me of. Starting with small gusts of wind and cool breezes that wisped around my face, I could now feel the southern world.

            Yes it may grow tiresome and monotonous in the mediocrity of post-modern life. But the ocean, the tides that caressed the sandy beaches would forever remain aborigines to those palmy zephyrs.

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