Monday, February 24, 2020
I was gifted yesterday with 3 beauties. Let me see if I can paint the words that would allow me to share them with you.
It had been over a week since I'd visited my praying place - the new pier out across the marsh to Occupacia Bay. A warm Sunday morning after 3 weeks of activity seemed like the perfect time to go out and have a little peaceful time exploring the bigger picture. I didn't even take my dogs, but slipped down the bank and onto the wide new boards as softly and quietly as I could go. There are always geese and ducks on the water and I like to see how close I can get to them before they take flight.
It was dead low tide and the warm brown marsh bed was already baking a bit in the sunshine, giving off a warmth that defied the chill of softly moving air across winter water. About halfway down the pier I suddenly thought "I could try some yoga poses here. now." And standing balanced in Mountain pose I gave myself up to the grounding action of that pose. Slowly I lifted my arms to Volcano pose - hands pointing up and arms slightly turned so the little fingers are closer together than the index fingers, when I saw, silhouetted against the blue blue sky, a single milkweed seed, all puffed and fluffed with white, travel across the space between my hands. That whiteness against that blue shot through me like a sunbeam and I knew: This is good.
And I will be back to do this again. Just like I knew that day, last fall, when I first realized I have a new Praying Place.
In the calm assuredness of that moment I remembered the rest of a sun salutation which I followed as a dance of thanks to the universe.
I then continued to walk down to the end of the pier, where the in-coming tide was already lapping beneath the platform and there, floating like a summer pleasure boat, was a single white clam shell, riding the tide to shore. Again - the color - the gleaming white shell, rimmed with just a hint of grey, bobbing against the rich brown of river water gently rising beneath me, just took my breath away. What little fairy decided she was going to cross the wide waters in her cockleshell boat yesterday morning? How quickly did she have to throw on her cloak of invisibility? Is there a fairy convocation happening somewhere around here or is she a lone traveler?
Two beauties seemed like such a blessing I stood at the end of the pier and closed my eyes to go deep into a prayer of thanks and I stood there some time when a song began, far upriver. An evensong that one doesn't expect to hear at mid-day. The song of a hundred geese calling to each other. Faint, far away, but distinctively full - so I knew it was a big flock. But so far away I was sure I wouldn't see them. But when I did open my eyes - there it was, about 2 miles away, a smear of flickering black wings, close on to 100 geese, flying north, in the middle of the day. I am sure they were saying "Goodbye" to the river. Goodbye to Virginia. Goodbye to the south and the marshes and the creeks. Maybe even goodbye to me. Standing on the end of my pier - watching them head back to frostier nesting places where they can raise there babies on chillier waters.
Three beauties. I am blessed.