Paradise Found

I woke up this morning with an intense wave of joy that struck me in the solar plexus with inexplicable power, like I'd mainlined pure sunshine!

After some self-reflection, I recognized the feeling was likely hypomania and not a valid reason to buy a new car and run away to Savannah, although I did thoroughly debate the pros and cons of coastal Georgia with my first caramel truffle latte.

Some mornings, I wake up knowing the day is going to be one of those worth remembering; a day you want to take home to meet your mother. Today was undeniably one of those days.

"Ms. Wonder," I announced as I entered the kitchen and found her watching the squirrel circus in the backyard, "I have an announcement to make, and you should be the first to know: today, I plan to celebrate our little slice of paradise. Today is Coastal Carolina Day!"

Her face lit up like Christmas lights on the Riverwalk, and I could have sworn I saw a twinkle in those emerald green eyes of hers. It took my breath away—what a woman!

"Is that what we're calling the southern coast these days? Paradise?" she asked, taking a delicate bite of what looked suspiciously like a chocolate eclair.

"Poopsie, just look outside. The skies are brilliantly blue, and the sunshine is wonderfully cheerful. I'm not denying there might be some V-shaped depressions causing trouble elsewhere along the coast, but here in Waterford, the forecast calls for nothing but zen-like calm."

"It is a beautiful morning," she admitted, "though I suspect your enthusiasm has less to do with the weather and more to do with that third cup of coffee."

"Speaking of which," I said. "What exactly is a caramel truffle latte anyway?" She had the eclair in her mouth once again and offered only a shrug in response to my question.

"Hmm," I said with a knowing nod—the nod was knowing, but I still didn't have a clue. "I don't know what it is either, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with French pigs mucking about in the forests."

The current discussion being at a stalemate, I decided to change the subject. You may find it an abrupt change considering the circumstances, but we Genomes adhere to Shakespeare's philosophy:

'If you're going to do a thing, do it quickly and get it over with.' It's not a direct quote; it's the English Revised translation of the King James edition.

"Well then," she said, "If you've got to go, you'd better go now."

I was astounded. It wasn't surprising; this worker of wonders often does surprise me. "Wonder!" I exclaimed. "I was just thinking of that very quote. One of the Bar's best. Yours is a different translation, but still... It must be all the wild-caught Chinook salmon you eat—omega 3 oils and whatnot."

"It's not Shakespeare," she said. "It's the Moody Blues."

I wasn't totally convinced, but then this remarkable woman is much like Jael from the Book of Judges—the wife of Heber and heroine of Israel. With one well-placed comment, she can nail down a quote and silence all questions just as decisively as she silenced Sisera.

"Join me for a drive to Southport," I suggested. "Travel Magazine calls it 'the friendliest coastal town in America."

"I know. You've mentioned it approximately seventeen times this month alone. So what are we waiting for? You've really got me going."

I couldn't argue with that sentiment from The Kinks' greatest hit, so I didn't. Instead, I cranked the self-starter in Wynd Horse (my trusty vehicle, for those new to these pages) and virtually flew down Grandiflora. Before you could say, 'You really got me now,' I zipped past Old Brunswick Towne heading toward Southport with Ms. Wonder by my side.

The drive was as pleasant as a day ever was. Bus drivers courteously eased into traffic when pulling away from the curb. Police officers whistled cheerful tunes as they patrolled their beats. Dogs pranced ahead of their humans, greeting all passersby with friendly tail wags, and the bluebirds sang classic tunes from the '40s and '50s.

"I think I just saw a squirrel helping an elderly chipmunk cross the street," I said.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," Ms. Wonder replied, but I caught the smile she tried to hide behind her hand.

Southport basked in the glow of a golden spring morning. There remained no trace of the spring shower that had passed through earlier. The air was cool and sweet, and the damp earth released a healing fragrance.

We strolled along the waterfront, where the Cape Fear River meets the Atlantic Ocean. Palmetto palms flashed their fruits in a gaudy but joyful display. The harbor shimmered like liquid silver. And the ducks—well, they were embarrassingly duck-like.

"Another day in paradise," Ms. Wonder said softly.

"Indeed," I agreed. "And there's nowhere I'd rather spend it than with you."

We lunched at Fishy Fishy Cafe, near the Yacht Basin where "The Waterfront" TV series was filmed, and later strolled along the riverfront near the original homes of colonial ship captains. 

Near Chandler's Wharf, we marveled once again at how the production crew of "The Summer I Turned Pretty" had magically transformed that little strip of sand into what appeared on screen as an expansive beach.

As the afternoon faded, we made our way back home to Chatsford Hall, where our little spot of Eden basked in the gentle sunshine of late afternoon. It was that most gracious hour, the time between dinner and bedtime, when Nature takes off her shoes and puts her feet up.

Ms. Wonder and I settled onto the porch, serenaded by the soothing coos of doves calling to us from our backyard. I reflected on the days I had spent with this extraordinary woman by my side, and those thoughts shifted to the possibilities of the upcoming summer.

"You know," I said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I've finally opened that gate and stepped out onto the yellow brick road. I'm on my way to the Emerald City. Nothing can stop me now."

"Watch out for flying monkeys," she said.

"Pay no attention to monkeys," I replied, "nor torpedoes for that matter. It's full speed ahead for me."

The soft, quiet moments lingered through the evening until, at last, the doves lined up on the rooftop to watch the sunset with us.

I felt a simple yet profound joy, knowing that many more days like this would be spent in the company of the love of my life, Ms. Wonder. In this moment, in this place, and with my Number One by my side, I have found my paradise.

I invite you to look around yourself today. Perhaps your own paradise is hiding in plain sight, just waiting for you to notice it.