on water

sometimes when i’ve flipped the cottages for our next guests, i take some time to walk the beach. it’s a quiet location. i walk along the sand, in the water, and watch for baby shrimp or hermit crabs. the water ripples ahead of each foot, as it pushes the water forward, changing the relation of earth to sky. every ripple being higher than the space between. the sky filling the divot. with each movement of my foot the sky stays the same, but its relation to the earth changes. it’s so steady.

it’s interesting when the tide is low, because i am interacting with the earth, sea, and sky all at once, all of me intermingled with all of it. the swish-step, swish-step is hypnotic. i think i could walk for hours like this. in water shallower than my knees. scouring the ground ahead of me for living things to admire, for a hagstone to treasure, and for birds to watch.

each time i come to the water i am reminded of the power it holds both to take so much away - life, shelter, shoreline - but also give so much back - food, shoreline, peace. a respectful trade.

sometimes when i am there, there is so little wind the surface at times, looks like glass. others, the water churns nearly brown, white caps, silt churned from the sea floor. sometimes, when i am lucky, the blue herons will be out. their long necks and long legs. one or seven, it never matters. i am so glad to see them. their stretched form, elegant movements as they fly overhead or search for food in the shallows.

i know if i go around 11, jerry will be there with his dog ozzy. ozzy will have but time for a hello, how are you, before he is off. ozzy is all business, and business is walks. i don’t blame him. i like it too.

n xx