Green Wellies

Ship ahoy...

Here's a view of what happens when the highway meets the sea on the journey to and from my sister's...

I sit in line with the other vehicles and hope that there's room for everyone.  Otherwise, it's a long two-hour wait for the next sailing, which isn't a big deal on a day like this...people sit in the sun and read, have a picnic lunch, walk their dogs and stand around and chat.  If it's pouring rain, well then, that's another story.

It's a lovely sight seeing the ferry pull into the dock...and right on time, too!

Homeward bound at dusk, leaving the shore behind...

...and wondering if anyone would notice that I went looking for Jack Sparrow down the hatch.

This is an old ferry that shudders and shakes, but all is safe and sound.

The last leg of the journey is only a few islands away and then I'm in the car on terra firma again.  It was a bon voyage.

Happy Father's Day boat...

This is the first time in my life that I wasn't able to speak directly with my dad on Father's Day and I wanted to reach out to his spirit with wishes of love and peace.  He passed away last July, but we all feel him near us, whether it's a hummingbird hovering and staring at me through the front door or the little bird that always approaches mom when she takes her morning swim.  Today, I made a paper boat, wrote some special words on it, went down to the beach and set it sailing on the waves.  As I stepped back from the water's edge, there was a marble right at my feet!  Thanks, dad, for letting me know in your own way that you liked the boat!  I heard you loud and clear...

A marble found is a marble gained...

I found another marble on the beach today, one of over 30 that were thrown into the brine just before Christmas.  There were wonderful lumpy bits of beach glass, too, but there's something magical about coming across a marble.  It's been almost three months to the day, that we tossed them in after using them to decorate a holiday tree scratched into the sand.  They must have been just rolling back and forth on the sea bed for ninety days, until it suited the waves to start coughing them ashore.  This one brings the total to four in the last week, but over the last couple of years, we've been able to account for almost twenty of nearly sixty tossed.

When I picked up my mail on the way home, there was a large envelope from my friend, Veronica and it was chock full of little goodies, including these wee things wrapped up in this note...and she's right, you just never know when you might need a little pink pig and a teensy "rubber" chicken!

And...then there was this gorgeous card from Gwen, looking for all the world like Casper in a sea of grass on a windy day...

 

I don't know what he looks like, but I think I'm in love with the postman.

Temporary evolution...

Remember this temporary assemblage of beach finds in a washed-up drawer?  Well, it's sat for a couple of weeks on the rocks now and never did get toppled by high waves or wind, like I thought would happen.  I placed a few chosen pieces of flotsam and jetsam in it and was pleased with its simplicity...

Then look what happened.  Each time I went for a walk with Casper, there were new things added by beachcombers anonymous.  While it's gradually lost the bare bones simplicity, there's something wonderful about its evolution by persons unknown.  Someone added a few rusty bits, another a shard of pink pottery and a pen-toting wanderer couldn't resist a smattering of graffiti.  There was a very large crab shell last week, but someone removed it and stomped on it...didn't like crabs, I guess.  It's beach junk art at its best and I only wish the drawer had been larger, so it could keep on growing and growing... 

Life and loss...

I've taken a few days off to spend time with a lifelong friend who recently lost both her mother and her mother-in-law in the same week.  It hasn't been an easy time for her and her family.  When she called to see if she could spend the week with me by the sea, I welcomed her with open arms.  It's been a healing time for her, just walking the beach, sitting watching the waves roll in and finding affirmations from nature that life will go on.  She found this pink granite heart on Valentine's Day!

On a foggy beach walk, I heard the geese calling...

Whether they were comforting each other in the fog, glad to be home or the courting season has begun, the geese-talk was loud and clear on the beach during our walk.  Casper and I stepped into the cottage wet from the mist, I made a cup of tea, opened a book and saw this poem by Mary Oliver...it just sort of grabbed me in the moment...

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Sands of time and marbles...

I wandered along the beach and found a clear patch of sand.  Casper was instructed to keep away from the stick in my hand (no mean feat) while I drew a tree and decorated it with marbles.  The idea was that the sun would reflect from the marbles and look like little lights all aglow, but just as I finished, it slipped behind a huge bank of clouds.  The tides wait for no one and I knew it was only a matter of time before the waves would wash the sand tree from the beach.  I photographed it and then the marbles became wishes that got tossed into the ocean.  I know that it won't be long before a few of them will be waiting wet and glistening on the sand again on one of my daily walks.  If the sun is shining, maybe then the light will be on!

Navigating Uncharted Waters

It's not often that I recommend a book when I haven't even finished reading it...actually, this is a first and I've barely even started it!  My dear friend, Jan phoned one night a few weeks ago and told me she'd just finished reading A WALK ON THE BEACH by Joan Anderson and that I had to get it.  I trust her insight unquestionably.  I knew I'd love the book before opening the cover.  Days before I moved to the west coast five years ago, Jan gave me A YEAR BY THE SEA by the same author and it was exactly what I had to read after having survived the emotional upheaval of the year before that initiated the move in the first place. 

Here's the third paragraph of the prologue and anyone who relies on nature to help heal the soul will see why I'm able to relate to this:  The beach to me is a sacred zone between the earth and the sea, one of those in-between places where transitions can be experienced-where endings can be mourned and beginnings birthed.  A walk along the beach offers the gift of the unexpected.  Scan the horizon and glimpse the endless possibilities.  Stroll head down and encounter one natural treasure after another.  Tease the tides and feel a sense of adventure.  Dive into the surf and experience the rush of risk.

The book offers an insightful exploration of renewal at midlife and I can't wait to read the next 220 pages!

Grin and Bear It!

It's a given that I come home from my beach walks with pockets full of beach glass, small bits of wood and heart-shaped rocks when I can find them.  But sometimes the tide leaves behind something unexpected.  With a mile of sand and rock, I often wonder what it is that leads me to that one certain spot where a treasure is just lying there waiting for me.  On one walk, I looked down and this lady was staring right up at me...cement face, stone eyes and ruby lips of brick.  I think her expression says it all...grin and bear it.  And...she didn't quite fit in my pocket!

Barb's Backside...and Casper, too!

Em took this photo of me with my shadow dog as we marched down the beach this afternoon.  I still can't get over the fact that I live on the ocean.  Jayne has been on the west coast for 25 years now and she says that there's not a day goes by that she doesn't look out over the Pacific and marvel at the same thing.  For a little Louisiana dog, Casper has adapted to life in Canada and almost turns himself inside out when the word 'beach' is mentioned...I think he knows how to spell it, too.  B-E-A-C-H, C-A-R and W-A-L-K don't fool him for a minute!  He's raring to go at the drop of a hat...or at least when I reach for mine.