Thurs Am Plum Island
The beach is deserted. The wind is strong and steady. The waves, though small, are noisily insistent. The sun is glaring off the ocean while it shines brightly in a clear blue sky. All of these things are so ordinary yet every time I witness them I become undone.
I can’t help staring out to sea at nothing in particular, across an empty ocean to that point where it meets the sky, some fourteen miles later but really an infinity away. I’m dumbstruck.
I could walk this beach all day, but I really have to go. The waves keep coming. Their never-ending wash is most hypnotic. But work is calling. The surf is one long line that slowly breaks along the beach before me then begins again and breaks along the beach before me then… I tear myself away.
Possibly walking along the beach before work isn’t the wisest thing to do. This time, knowing I was taking a long weekend, being Acadia-bound, I was able to break the spell. But just barely. Next time I may not be so lucky. And, like the waves, there will be, life willing, a next time.
Even though all of this is just so ordinary.
COLD AND SOLITUDE
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Freezing weather here after a snowfall. Here again is a winter hokku by
Hashin: No sky, no earth;Only snowCeaselessly falling. And here is Kimio
Eto playin...
3 months ago
4 comments:
Hi Greg,
There's nothing quite like a long holiday. I have thoroughly enjoyed your travelogue. "And, like the waves, there will be, life willing, a next time." Here here! Thanks for sharing. --JB
Thank you, JB. And my next post, life willing, will be from Acadia, on holiday. Ah, there there.
Many times it is is the ordinary that is most beautiful.
I love the beach, and your writing really brings the flavor of it to the fore.
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