Broken Pieces of Shells
This morning was sky-blue and clear with a hint of breeze like spring. The wind calmed down from last night and the night before. I packed my lunch and headed west to the sea. Over the hills, passing apple tree farms with yellow mustard blooming (already!), around the bend, there is the guy who sells the smoked salmon parked on the side of the road, and following the turn to the farm stands I have frequented for almost forty years where we pick up bags of snacks before heading out to Bodega Bay. I kept on driving, as the tears rolled down my face, surrendering my heart to whatever is ahead for me. Peace settled in when I came up over the tall hills near the red barns looking out into the green valley with the wandering black and white cows.
I pulled up to the beach with hardly a person in sight. Most of the town, I wondered, were probably watching the inauguration, feeling a sense of peace and hope for the future. I thought of the three C\’s, I\’ve given up along with my youth; Competing, Conquering, and Consuming. How I want to spend the rest of my days getting older. How I want to keep learning how to go deeper, how to help heal and expand into love within this human experience.
Sandpiper at Doran Beach
I took the steps leading to the beach. There, I followed the sandpiper as she foraged for crustaceans near the breaking waves. Most of the time, she just gazed out to the sea. At my feet, every few inches, I found sea charms resting in the sand; broken shells of exquisite colors and polished stones sculpted and worn into jewels reflecting back the sunlight. I didn\’t pick any up, I just left them there as memories surfaced of days beach combing with Scott in Crescent City for wind chimes he would create later for his daughters. He was very selective in what he was looking for, blue and green sea glass were prized finds. He carefully showed me what to search for. I learned to love beach combing, being lost in the search, melting into timelessness.
Today, I lost myself at the sea in good memories while creating new ones.
After my walk along the beach, an impressive sized raven, pitch black brilliance, alighted onto the bench in front of my car as I ate my lunch. He was alone. Usually, the ravens are in pairs. I watched him for a half hour. He didn\’t call out to a mate. He looked out, onto the sea, following the light dancing on the ripples of waves, just like the sandpiper, alone in his own silent presence. I could feel his strength. His resolve. After awhile, he took off in flight, returning back to the bench in front of my car, with a large marble like berry in his mouth. He chipped away at it, pressing it against the back of the bench, taking his time savoring it, instead of swallowing it whole.
This morning I am not alone. I am together in solo company.
“Animals may aid us in our everyday lives, in our dreams, meditations. Since they were created before humans, they are closer to THE SOURCE and can act as allies, guides and familiars in our search for wholeness. —An Inuit woman I”