Here at Otter Cove

On our way home, we took one last loop through the park, and stopped at Otter Cove. It had rained hard during the night, but now was a mixture of overcast and fog. From my rock perch jutting into the cove, I could see the points that formed the entrance into the little shelter. But beyond was a wall of mist. Waves were crashing on the far point and along its shore, creating a constant roar that sounded as if it was coming from the nothingness of fog itself. As if beyond the ken of our senses, an infinite energy sounded. And because of the nature of coincidences, last night’s rain, today’s overcast skies, the ocean fog, this quiet place and time, we could hear it. Indeed, it was quite the vision.

Vision at Otter Cove

Past the entrance of this cove,
the sea has wholly disappeared
behind an unbroken wall of fog.

On the farther rockbound point,
waves repetitively crash,
sounding as perpetual roar

originating from a place
beyond the almost visible mist—
I hear the engine of creation.

~Son Rivers 2006