Well, it took over a week, but yesterday dawned warm, dry, and sunny, and I took an extended walk to the rocky point I told you about on the 13th. The experience was initially a disappointment, through no fault of the landscape. There wasn't a path down to the beach level, just a steep wall of boulders which are probably a cinch for school age kids and young moms, but which (suddenly?!) are just too much for my knees. Not being "outdoorsy" has taken its toll. And being there alone added to my sense of vulnerability. So...I carefully made my way down to the first flat rock and simply sat on it. I loved the warmth pouring up through the stone into my hands, my feet, my (Oh, Lordy, if my mother could see me writing this word!) bum. It is an infusion of power. And there is nothing in the world quite like sitting next to an ocean, lake or river, and hearing the action of the water on the shore. There was a light southwest breeze, no ore boats in sight, and just a few small fishing boats. For a few moments, I felt like I was embodying my maternal grandmother, Agnes, who used to bring her oil paints to overlooks near Kennebunkport, Maine, and paint scenes of the waves hitting the rocks. Somewhere, there may still be some old black-and-white photos of her in 1950's skirt and blouse, and a broad-brimmed hat not dissimilar to the one I was wearing.
I had seen the news yesterday morning about the flooding in Texas, which they called a "thousand year" event. It heightened my appreciation for a calm moment on a lake that can turn on a dime. It's such an awesome mystery, how Nature expresses power so many different ways all over the world -- at the same time. And even in this era of weather extremes, how could Texans possibly grasp the need to prepare for flooding after months of drought? It was shocking, even from a distance, to see people wading through their kitchens. I think we need to retire phrases that imply the rarity of such storms. You almost sense that officials are trying to reassure people that things will soon return to normal, but it is unlikely that they will. Perhaps our society is being forced to become less consumerist; as so much of what we "own" starts floating downstream or going up in smoke or flying away in tornadoes, perhaps we will think twice before buying so much in the first place...just hoping (!) And I am reminded that boulders are among the few things that can survive most of those weather events. I'm loving them more all the time.
