Saturday, May 30, 2009

Sick and Subdued

I've got a whopper of a cold coming on, I can feel it. Who gets sick in the Spring? Too strange.

I went to the shore the other day, and of course, it rained the entire time. That's ok, cuz I just put on my rain slicker and windbreaker, and went down to the beach anyway...rain wasn't going to stop me.

The wind had whipped the ocean into a frenzy, the rain was steady against my face, and I felt a call in my soul to get to the water's edge, to where the huge breakers were crashing against the rocks. I walked gingerly out onto the jetty, as far as I could go without getting swept away...M was there too, looking a bit fearful and hesitant, but I told him to stop being so cautious--it was ok. (famous last words :-D )

The ocean was so majestic, the waves in a perfect and somewhat threatening rhythm...I was awed by their power. I had to resist the urge to fling myself into the maelstrom...I envisioned what it would be like to be plunged into the valley of the mountains of water...the cold green world, the thousands of pounds of crushing water battering you, until you were finally dashed again and again against the barnacle covered, unyielding rocks. Pretty intense.

The next morning, I was determined to get to the beach again, and actually do what I set out to do, which was to commune with my "Mother." The day was misty and foggy, but the surf was calm.

We walked down onto the nearly empty beach, which was peacefully shrouded in fog, and set up our chairs...I watched two lone surfers appear out of the mist--mere shadows against the veil of their wetsuits, they appeared like stick figures against the dreamlike, billowing backdrop and the soft grey pulse of the surf.

In the distance, a lone fisherman worked on the jetty--standing stock still for so long, I wondered if he was real. A single man appeared suddenly from the greyness, and ran quietly into the surf; I watched him jump in, jump out, and shake himself off. He donned a strange little terrycloth outfit, and then went through his yoga poses. He left as quietly as he came...

Along the beach, about 100 yards away, I noticed a man scattering the remains of native roses into the surf...I tried not to look at his pain directly. It was a private moment for him, and I felt I shouldn't intrude on him with my stares as he honored his lost beloved.

The different sea birds went about their business as I sat. I watched pleasant little sandpipers running to and fro, while larger gulls hovered and landed softly, their intentions known only to themselves.

M went for a long walk, and I was able to quietly reflect and communicate with the sea. I told it all of my hurt and sorrow, and it quietly acknowledged me...I know that God is in the ocean--and could feel His presence sitting with me, his arm around my shoulder.

The day was wonderfully peaceful, and I felt very refreshed. I allowed myself to think of nothing but the sea, and the moments I spent with it. I got some beautiful references for a series of paintings I've already begun, and I'm entranced with them...

After we left, I found myself sporting a pretty good burn on my face. Hat, blankets and all, my freaky mixed blood doesn't like the sun, and it always finds a way to get that burn in...

I came home to find how happy I was to see everyone--Anthony was quiet in his room, Noelle was playing outside, Gab and Iz were gone though, taking both babies with them...only the remnants of Miss Maddies's great flour disaster remained behind, lol. But, that's another story!

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