Light

Like a moth to flame, I am drawn. I sense it and seek it.

First light, a welcome sigh of being. Of relief. I am.

Uplifting, strengthening. Fulfilling. Healing.

It pulls me in, beckoning, luring. Promising.

It sends me off in different directions. Pausing for thought. Guiding me.

Reflecting me. A moment in time.

Even in darkness, I seek the light. I want the light.

I find no comfort in darkness.

I have no curtains in my home.

Icing from the Inside

It started with sand being thrown against the window, and soon grew to a steady wave of small pebbles tatooing on the roof. In my dream, I was standing on a beach looking at the clear blue waters of Northumberland Strait and the bridge to Prince Edward Island. Peaceful, but slightly disoriented. As I woke,  that vision faded, and was replaced by this one.

When Nature takes your world, and gives it a shake and a polish, you must pay attention.

And so I did.

Cocooned by the soft glow of morning,  and unable to see beyond, I was forced to look within.

Nature's artistry leaves me breathless. A haunting golden moment that rises with the sun and lingers just long enough to remind us that  we can only see this magic when the paint brush is heavily laden.

A magnified moment, frozen in time and soon to melt away.

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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.

Morning is Breaking

While I may be slightly winter weary, I must admit that daybreak on the icy river stops me cold.

I breathe the gathering light and hold it within.

The ice is beginning to move, pushing back against the beach, staking its claim along the frozen ridges.

It won't win. Spring will come. Water will flow.

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Remembering Summer.

Summer is a place where the view is so lovely, it gets its own frame.

The colours are so vivid, your breath gets caught in between blue and orange,

and the blue poppies take your breath completely away.

Summer is a place where magic surrounds you.

And the sky consumes you.

Winter is not summer.

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Good Morning

It is a good morning. Southern breeze, northern geese. I wake up and sigh.

They write words on the water while I listen to their clatter chat.

A lone Scoter is as rare as this morning in November. I linger.

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From Dawn 'til Dusk

The eastern shore of Maryland, Delaware and Virginia is an amazing place to visit...steeped in history that extends back to the edge of time as we understand it, waning and waxing in prosperity as the tides of Chesapeake Bay ebb and flow. The light at this time of year is diffused with softness, as summer draws to an end, and autumn begins to glow.

The morning sky over Rehoboth Beach draws me down to the water.




And I'm still there ten hours later, to see the sun set over Chesapeake Bay, as the beach which is softly cloaked in a pastel wash gradually turns to molten bronze.









A time and a place when it is right to use epic words like grandeur and magnificent and inspiring.