Gwynn's Island Sunset

On my screen, these pictures are blurry. If they are on yours too, try squinting and imagining the most beautiful sunset in the world. This was over on Gwynn's Island looking towards the vicinity of the Piankatank River. You may now unsquint your eyes.

I had every intention of writing about sunsets today, and I was going to talk about the sunset in Key West at Mallory Square. (By the way, Key West has absolutely nothing to do with life in Mathews, but by now surely you know how easily I stray from any topic.)

As I was considering what I would say, I wanted to talk about how three girls, with no fear and not a lot of common sense among them, drove from Charlottesville to Miami in one session. I was going to say something about it being the equivalent of driving from (insert a country here) to Saudi Arabia. Contemplating just the right country, I looked for a world map and instead came upon my childhood diary.

So, never mind about that story. This particular entry from 1974 caught my eye:

___________________________________________
July 9

Dear Diary,

Today was realy [sic] rough. I had to be at the orthodontist's by 8:30. Then when I got home, I hit my head on a box at the pool. I had to get 3 stitches. Boy! And before that Mamma ran over my bycicle [sic].

-Chesapeake Bay Child
___________________________________________

I have always said that when I have a bad day, I do it up right: When it rains for me, it typhoons. I am surprised, however, that it started at such a young age.

Let me explain why each and every one of the statements above is so traumatic.

1. The orthodontist was located in Denbigh, which is approximately an hour's drive from Mathews. If I had to be there at 8:30, that means I had to get up way earlier than usual. No good.

2. The orthodontist was tightening my braces. Back then, braces were like wearing a steel vice around your head. I would be in pain for a good couple of days after the vice-tightening. No good.

3. I already wrote about the time I ran into a fire extinguisher box at the Islander. That was the only time in my life I've ever had stitches. They were IN MY HEAD. No good.

4. My bicycle was my life, my only means of transportation. I rode that thing hard and often. But, I would leave it in the driveway on occasion, without using the kickstand. I was in a hurry and had no time to stop and tend to such details. The bike was casually tossed wherever I got off. In this case, it happened to be behind the car. My mother drove over more than one bike in our childhood, and each and every time it was very traumatic. The bike was done. Stick a fork in it. Twisted and mangled beyond recognition. NO GOOD.

So how can I relate this story to (possibly blurry) pictures of a sunset? Easy.

No matter how awful a particular day is, and the above one should go down in the history books for me because of the sheer volume of traumatic events, the sun is always going to set and always going to rise on a fresh, new day.

Hopefully that new day won't be filled with stitches and braces and mangled bicycles.

Or blurry photos.