Acadia September Preamble

Excuse me please but I’m doing another Acadia walkabout. So there’s nothing on my mind tonight but fog. That’s because I took a little walk along the ocean this afternoon and that’s all I saw. Well, not exactly. But that’s the point.

It dawned on me while looking out at the mist from Otter Cliffs that the daily concerns of our lives are much like this fog. Any chance of a mystic epiphany is shrouded in our activities. We are indeed social animals, and we can create theories for our affairs like bunny rabbits. Just ask the Easter Nietzsche.

But from Otter Cliffs you can still hear the hidden bell buoy out by the rocks despite the pea soup. It rings like a church bell. So I walked further towards Otter Point. The wind picked up as I rounded south and swells were crashing louder and more incessantly. Seagulls were turning gray and a cormorant spread its wings like an albatross. But for some reason, from that angle, I saw the bell buoy rocking in the waves.

I guess you need to trick the mist, refuse to look straight through its business, and circumvent its viewpoint until you reach that wilderness that Jeffers told us all about. There a narrow clarity becomes. It isn’t anything to found an organized religion around, but god knows it’s something. And that I’m thinking is a beginning.