Just Skimming the Surface

I am not a religious person.

Not in the organized  I go to church every Sunday and pay my tithe and listen to the preacher/father/reverend tell me what's right and what's wrong while it  has waged wars, shed blood, burned women and children, harboured pederasts, and committed countless other shameful acts - all in the name of God .

Nope. Not for me.

But I am a spiritual person.

And when I need to connect with myself, my thoughts, my life,

I simply go outside.

And there I find peace. And harmony.

And a sense of wonder.

While garden nymphs gather rosebuds and  look for beauty beneath the bushes,

a miracle is beginning  to dawn along the shores of Cape May, New Jersey

.

It's a warm September morning. The air is soft, the seas are calming,

and the flock is ready.

Like all good sheep Black Skimmers, they face away from the windy waters

and do not go gladly into any storm.

There is usually a bit of strutting and jockeying for position, especially by the young'uns, but things get arranged as they should.

'Course, like in any congregation, there's always one who just needs a little more

time to say what he (or she) thinks needs to be said,

before settling in for the sermon.

and finally, it's time to just stop. And let waves of peace roll on over you.

Or not. For every flock must have a dissident.

Oddly enough, the little Sanderling wandered hither and yon,

amidst the flock, pecking and picking at the water's edge.

And not one feather was ruffled!  Well well. Well.

But you know, really?

These are flights of fancy, and I'm just winging it here.

But -  at the end of my hour on the beach, I've touched something incredible.

I feel that the sum of the parts is greater than the whole.

And I wonder if this little Black Backed Gull is playing charades?

See Pee?  Be Pee?

Oh flock, I don't know!

Here endeth the lesson.

A Walk on the Beach

My beach is a river beach. It does not feel the gentle southern breezes that

waft over the Gulf of Mexico, unlike  this beach

on Sanibel Island in Florida, which does.

When I look over the water, the far shore I see is a small Ontario dairy farm. I don't see million dollar apartments owned by billionaires in Naples.

Their  luxury towers look like tiny lego blocks  defining adult play along the horizon. That's not what I came to see though. This is:

This incredibly artful arrangement is by Nature. And it changes every minute or so of every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year

...you get the picture.

These are creatures and tiny treasures I don't have on my beach.

They're worth travelling 1000's of miles to see.

Some things you can hardly see...

...like this lovely little plover who blends so perfectly, she's almost invisible. Or the small flock of gulls who instinctively turn into a soft gray and white cloud hiding in plain sight on the beach from the eagle's eye overhead.

This jelly fish is the ultimate surprise on the beach ...it just sits there, looking phlemgy and disgusting. Step on it? Never! Providing I see it first that is.

On my river beach, the jelly fish wouldn't win the ugly competition, although they are green and slimey.

A twig on the edge of the beach moved. Not a twig after all.

Ah, Nature, you are so clever!

A beach is a place where I can get lost and find myself.

By looking without, I become calmer within.

It is the small things that bring the most joy.

It doesn't have to twinkle above you for you to make a wish.

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Gulls on high!

I have never seen our Town Crier cry. In fact, I have only seen him smile, and chuckle, and grin, and outright laugh, right out loud! Even on Canada Day when he was jumping over puddles, dodging lightening bolts, and yelling above the thunder he was positively beaming! Proof positive that it helps to have a positive outlook if you're called to do your duty to God and the Queen in the middle of the pouring rain. Which he does. In spades. And buckets.
Happy people are a tonic. And on Canada Day, it seemed that I was surrounded by them. Makes sense I guess, as who but happy people would come out in the rain to watch the Legion honour the fallen heroes and lay wreaths and play dirges. A sombre enough opening ceremony on a sunny day, but in the rain?? Takes a person with a cheerful inner child to do that.
It didn't pour constantly mind, just enough to give the biceps and triceps a workout opening and closing the umbrella, and flipping it outside in when the wind finished blowing it inside out! Good exercise for the chipper upper lippers among us!
And as we all know, every cloud has a silver lining...and there was no exception to this rule on Canada Day. After it had downpoured for about the 10th time in ten minutes, a city Works guy said, " Well, that's all the rain we're getting for the next few hours." He said it with such authority, that I turned and said to him, "And you know this because???" To which he responded,
"I' m a Newfie". Well, that explains it! But then he pointed up to the clouds, and said "See all the gulls heading out over the river?" Which I did. He said you can tell a storm is coming by watching the gulls. If they are heading inland, there's rain on the way. The further inland they fly, the worse the storm. And, after the storm, they'll head back out over water...which is what we were watching as he explained all of this folkie wisdom. And as we looked up, the sun broke through the clouds, and the sky cleared, and all was well with Canada for the afternoon. Then the gulls flew back to land, all hell broke loose, we had to cancel the fireworks, and bow to Nature's version instead. Which was quite allright with all the cheerful people. And the gulls too - happily chowing down on popcorn and french fries instead of fish.