Golden Light on Glass
A morning at the sea
Summer along the coast has finally arrived in a blaze of heat and scorching sunshine. We have been waiting for weeks. “May gray, June gloom” everyone would say as we woke to morning after morning of heavy, low clouds and enshrouding mist. We would bundle up and head to empty, gray beaches, knowing we only had them to ourselves for a little longer. I try to savor each season, but we all grew impatient for blue skies and warm water. When sunshine finally came, so did the crowds - children are out of school and everyone flocks west to escape the heat in the cool Pacific. High summer is in full swing!
I wrote a little poem when we were at one of our favorite beaches last weekend. Every once in a while I get a sensation of rightness, of everything falling into place. I had that at the beach that day. I hope you feel it too.
just after dawn, just after the gates open, there are only a handful of cars mostly ones we know the same faces, the ones who can't stay away sometimes we see them for a season, and sometimes year after year the tide is low and the beach expansive wavelines interwoven like scalloped lace we are the first footprints, except for the birds we recognize gulls and something smaller perhaps a plover, with its tiny steps along the shore we find a wavy turban gasping for the sea, a dead crab suspended in a shallow pool. Jesse finds a lobster antennae; he cries as it floats away until Curren splashes in to retrieve it it is quiet and still, our shadows long in front of us pelicans glide, suspended inches above glass a solitary tern dives for a fish, an osprey patrols overhead, no cetaceans today, but I know they are out there, beyond where I can see sensations heighten, attention narrows to the sand underfoot, and the cool water around my ankles the light is thick and textured, like honey the seaweed is pungent and salty delight: to gain pleasure, satisfaction and happiness a shiver moves through me I am so glad to be here And then, like that the moment slips away the sun crests and sharpens the crescendo rises, competing with the velvet of the waves people stake their spot, measuring out a claim it's mine today, they say slowly the beach rolls into a party surfers dance on the horizon music blares somewhere down the beach at least it's reggae the second shift has arrived and the beach fills with color the wind picks up the heat intensifies I still don't want to go