Nov 25, 2016
By Christie Lovvorn
Driving brave and finding peace at the Fairhope Pier
There were 62 wooden steps from the sun-dappled park by the bay to the top of the tree-covered bluff. I know. I counted each careful step I made on the sun-bleached staircase while clinging to the rough handrail, hoping not to snag a splinter. For me, that day, the 40-foot vertical trek was a monumental feat. So was the entire 40 mile trip from my Mobile home to picturesque Fairhope, a small city nestled along the inner curve on the eastern shore of Alabama’s Mobile Bay.
As dawn approached, I lay in bed and wrestled with the idea of driving through the frenzied traffic of I-10 into a tunnel and a bayway with a reputation for daily accidents. I wanted to go. I knew it would be good for me. But it had only been four months since I’d returned to driving after tearing all the ligaments in my right ankle. Finally, I took Lady Macbeth’s advice to her husband, “screwed my courage to the sticking place” and made the 45-minute trip.
As soon as I reached the bottom of the steep road to the bayfront park, I smiled then took a deep breath. I was surprised at how many visitors were already at the Fairhope pier that early on a weekday, but I still found a good parking space facing the bay. When I opened the car door, the wind nearly tore my straw sunhat from my head. It was early May, but a rare late-spring cold snap had swept along the Gulf Coast and I shivered in spite of the long-sleeved sweater I wore. I walked half of the quarter mile long pier watching the murky waves chase one another toward shore, but the early morning sun refused to warm me so I climbed back into the car.
Through the windshield, I watched tiny birds dart in and out of the white houses perched atop tall poles sprouting from the water’s shadowy depths. Pelicans drifted lazily across the sky then dove like B-52 bombers and with an impressive splash, claimed a fish for breakfast before placidly winging their way back into the sky. In my rearview mirror I spied some overzealous, underdressed yoga students posing in the grassy paths that bisected the vibrant rose garden behind me. I shivered on their behalf. For an hour or so, I stayed in the car watching the shifting sunlight scatter glowing white sparks atop the waves. In my improvised cocoon, I sang, prayed, and read the Bible until the manicured garden enticed me.
I braved the chilly air, now a good bit warmer, to wander among dozens of yellow, pink, red, and white roses, stopping to inhale their delicate scent. The lapping waves and squawking gulls accompanied me as I meandered down the pier and back then strolled the perimeter of the park. Beside the path, I found a sunlit spot where I kicked off my shoes and dropped into tai chi’s horse stance, a pose that sort of resembles a dance plié. The sun warmed my face and a gentle breeze tinged with salt spray tousled my hair. I felt my breathing slow and my muscles relax as my hands glided through the air. When I finished the exercise, I sat on a wooden bench nestled under a live oak tree and watched frantic moms speedwalking with babystrollers. Older couples, walking hand in hand, passed by and offered a nod or smile.
The nearby bluff towering above me caught my attention and I peered around the trees to size it up. A little uncertain, I stepped onto the dirt path and started climbing the worn stairs built into the hillside. Even though I held onto tightly to the rail, after a few hesitant steps, my ankle felt strong and so did I. When I reached the top, I turned and looked out at the panoramic view of the bay where the sun made the dancing waves sparkle. The bluff was carpeted with thick green grass and dotted by plentiful live oaks and longleaf pines offering homes to pelicans and herons, cardinals and egrets. I stood at the bluff’s edge and looked out to where the sky and earth met before they tumbled into the water. There I drank in all the gifts Fairhope and nature offered me. A smile spread across my face as I realized I had conquered my fear that day. Maybe that’ll set me free to conquer a few more.
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About the Author
Christie Lovvorn
Christie Lovvorn has 15 years experience as a freelance journalist and four as a blogger. She makes her home on the Gulf Coast where she teaches college English courses. Her AL.com article "Auburn Ag students lead ‘God in the Garden’ program for kids" received an honorable mention in the 2015 Southern Christian Writers Conference contest. You can follow her at http://myeverydayepiphanies.blogspot.com/