ONSET PIER

Written 12/14/09

 The gull sitting on the piling not ten feet from my car looks old and wizened as he surveys the pier from his vantage point.  Plump, he must have a good bird’s eye view out for his meals.  His legs are thick and sturdily planted, like he’s rooted into that piece of wood.  He’s so much bigger than the other gulls who are now sunning themselves on other pilings.  Clearly, he is king of the roost, judging by his size, his stance and his presence.  Only the others don’t seem to be paying him any attention.  Or maybe, they’re keeping their distance in quiet reverence.  So content, though is he, or she that she’s now in quiet repose, legs tucked under as she sleepily surveys her surroundings.  Hmmm, curious that when upright and standing firm, the gull was clearly male and now in rest and relaxation, the feminine side is so apparent.  Maybe my interpretation is way off, but it doesn’t matter because for these moments in time, nothing else matters.  I am totally present and engaged, hanging out on the pier with my gull buddy.

ONE WITH NATURE

Written 8/7/09

I am surrounded by astounding natural beauty as I sit on my deck.  Tall trees, mostly pine and oak, rise untamed from the conservation land behind my cedar fence.  The leaves barely move now but earlier they spoke with the rustle of the sea wind.  They sounded like the woods of Maine, even though they’re planted in Cape soil and sand. The sky above is so crisp it could be sliced cleanly by a sky writer. Void of clouds, planes or any intrusion, it is uniform in color, almost a luminescent blue.  The birds must be readying for rest.  They’ve taken to the trees where only an energetic few still chirp.  The hummingbird couple retired after a ten minute visit to my red bee balm plants and yellow honeysuckle vine.  The colors of my flowers need no artist.  They are creations of nature.  The breeze picks up for a moment and another hummingbird flits by. 

 In allowing myself to really see what is before me, not only are my eyes open but my mind is too.  So much pours in now.  Gratitude for this feast before me, fills my senses and brings me peace, for it is here that I feel both the stillness and movement of nature and come to understand that this is how nature is.  Just as the hummingbirds come and go, as the leaves rustle then stop, as the birds are silent, then sing, I too am changing.  In quiet, sound is born.  In stillness, action begins.  In my sadness at not being in love, the energy of one to come begins.  In my times of loneliness, a connection stirs.  Since I too am part of nature, my movement is the same.  What is not here now will soon appear, just as what is here now, may depart.  With this understanding comes acceptance of the flow of the natural world we are one with and I find faith; faith that if I’m in tune with the ways of nature and remain aware of its energy and movement, all that is not well will soon be and what has left, will again return.  Maybe different but it will be new, recreated or reformed. But it will appear, if I keep my eyes, my heart, my mind and ears open.  For if I don’t, it may pass me by and I’ll never even know that I had the chance to see, to love, to grab hold off.  I’ve learned in this writing, that each change in nature is a reminder for me to watch, pay attention and keep faith that the winds of change are in constant motion, that it is how the cycles go and I will flow with it as it flows through me.

THE QUAHOG REPUBLIC VIBE

Written 8/4/09

Across the channel, nestled among the trees, are big old summer houses.  They stretch as far as I can see from my view here at the Quahog Republic. Sandy beaches line the shores on that side and this. The sun is bright, the sky baby blue and a whitish haze hovers above the tree line in the distance.  Sand chairs of many colors have their backs to me on the beach below.  The grownups’ heads are covered with hats and children play in the sand.  Moored boats bob lazily in water so calm.  Time slows down here on Mashnee Island.

I’m on Cape Cod but I could be in the Caribbean.  The breeze blows gently through the open window.  Jimmy Buffett’s music serenades.  A small skiff with a sail of blue glides slowly by as one with a motor speeds to shore.  The people on the beach didn’t come by car.  They arrived by boat with their gear in tow.  Things move very slowly as I see outside.  And here in my chair I catch the vibe.  A glass of wine, a pen in my hand and I relax inside.

A wooden raft 30 feet out brings me back to when I was a kid.  Jumping off, then climbing back up, rocking with the water as I lay down on those hard boards. Somehow, they didn’t seem hard then. The kids out there now are doing the same.  Some things are timeless.  

Free, with time standing still, it surrounds us all here on Mashnee Island.  New kayakers go back and forth.  Community boating is alive and well as small sails fill the channel and add to the color.  Gulls are overhead.  One catches my eye as he glides and swoops. I think he could be Jonathan Livingston Seagull.  Just like velvet, he coasts.  I’m mesmerized as I watch his journey and I can only imagine his view from above.

 There is so much activity in this lazy scene when I take the time to see.  Yet a peace abounds and infiltrates the air, erasing life’s stresses as it takes me away.  A gray haired guy stands below.  Oars in his hand, a life jacket thrown over his shoulder, he waits for someone while he sings and dances in place to ‘Rocking in the Free World’.  Reggae plays now as I feel the breeze and move my shoulders to the rhythm,   I found a gem today, for I will come back to my new island habitat.

THE GIVING TREE

Written 7/27/09 

There is a sculpture and jewelry gallery on route 6A in Cape Cod, called “The Giving Tree”.  The grounds are peaceful, tree covered and adorned with sculptures of every kind.  It is there to wander about and discover or to just be.  I decided to sit on a bench and write in this oasis of serenity.

Flanked by a playful metal dog on one side and a wise stone woman on the other, the intertwined tree branches before me are like none I’ve seen.  So graceful, they rise from the earth, bend softly to the side and meander along.  Braced by a post, they join, wrapped around each other and loop peacefully, lazing along in simplicity.  Suddenly they change, unexpectedly melding into mad disarray, like arms and legs entangled in passion.  They curve and twist, then split and divide into a jumble of form and beauty.  My eyes turn away, as if I’m intruding, and settle on a piece of slate on the ground below.  Written are the words “Come sit under the Giving Tree with me”.  I smile, knowing that I was lured to her before being invited, as if beckoned by the tree itself.  Intrigued by its shape, I wonder, what does the Giving Tree give?  What messages are hidden amongst her unusual beauty? 

 Up the tree climbed, woven around another, where she was taken to heights and places yet unseen.  She reached higher and higher, climbing the neighboring Cherry Tree in exploration.  As I watch her path and growth, I understand the gift the ‘Giving Tree’ has given to me.  In her expansion, is mine.  In her exploration, is mine.  In her time, is mine.  I, like her, stand the same; searching, sometimes alone or maybe connected, at times lost, other times found, moving forward hurriedly or taking my time, but always growing ever stronger – searching, reaching, seeing; always.

With gratitude for my newly learned lessons, I asked the grounds keeper what kind of tree is she?  He looked at me strangely then followed me there. “Ah, that is a bittersweet vine and it’s choking the Cherry Tree she’s wrapped around.”  Stunned, “you mean it’s that horribly invasive vine”?   It is so destructive in my yard.  And what about my new lesson – is it to be destroyed too; choked like the cherry tree, I wonder?   Then I remember thinking this morning of the times I’d been blind to the beauty in others, focusing instead on what seemed to be missing.  Not proud of myself, I vowed then and there, to open my eyes to look beyond the obvious.  Now I understand the tree’s even bigger gift to me. She is a visual reminder that beauty is always present, although sometimes deceptive or maybe not even apparent…. but it is there, just waiting for someone to notice.

SEA AND SEE

SEA AND SEE

Written 7/14/09 

Comfortable in my chair on Woods Hole Beach, my pen poised to capture the magnificence surrounding me, I watch a bird; large, dark and sleek as he glides just above the water, then lands on the surface and disappears below.  In his wake, is a vast expanse of ocean, waves breaking loudly with scent and color. The sky, a clear cerulean, meets the sea, in stark contrast to water colored blue black with crystalline splashes of white.  Yet twenty feet from shore, the color changes to celery green darkened with the brown of sea weeds that rise to the top of each breaking wave. They sway with the rhythm of the water that teases them in, and then snaps them back, as if dancing a tango.  In the distance beyond, a ferry, brim full of vacationers, swiftly follows the channel toward the Vineyard as it passes a tug with barge in tow, laboring into port.

When I chose my spot to write this morning, I wasn’t quite sure that I’d be inspired by the sleepy looking beach scene before me; a few sun bathers, a swimmer or two, distant boats on the horizon and gulls overhead.  I’m thrilled though, to find a much larger spectacle of motion, color and sound in an ever changing array. As I look up now, a Coast Guard Cutter is quickly heading inland, appearing intent on a mission as it disappears behind the big house high up on a cliff.  I wonder for a brief second where my attention will fall next until I notice an infantry of puffy white clouds lazily marching in formation out to sea.  I am awed with this gallery of images before me, feeling such joy and serenity and deliciously content with my hour of writing ‘words of nature’. My eyes have opened and my heart is full.