It’s at times you least expect wonderful – that it sneaks up on you. When it’s cold and grey. The sleet has chased all the sparrows back under the safety and warmth of the awnings. That’s when the magic happens.
The sky over the ocean is one giant cloud. The water a sage green. Every now and then a bright white wave rises then disappears as quickly as it rose. The ocean is not angry, but it’s not to happy either! Waves are constant, even, regular, a 41 degree recipe for distress.
Seagulls must not have any feeling in their butts. They bob around in silence. Only the sleet whispers over the sound of sea on sand. I’m glad I’m not here for the Great White migration. Watching seals get eaten is not appealing to me. I remember crying while watching Wild Kingdom with my father. “It’s the circle of life. ” he said before Disney. His words brought no comfort.
The lanterns have been lit. My fingers feel the chill. I’m crying and I don’t know why. I love it here by the ocean. It frightens me, calls to me, reassures me. It could take my life and never stop to mourn. Not one tear. No eulogy. No regret.
Suddenly I feel the presence of those who went before me. A heaviness on my shoulders. I no longer fear death, as I watch the wrinkles touch my hands. My vision blurs a bit, an ache here and there. No more a blushing bride. But a woman grown, nurtured from nurturing. Looking for the beauty in each day.
The gift for me to find. Like the sleet dancing on the windows. Salt water on sand. The blanket someone thoughtful enough to bring to me.
I am content.”