On the first day of spring, I found myself on the far shores of the Pacific Northwest in early morning. All gray, blue, fresh and promising, with miles of beach. At my feet wonderful sea-tumbled cobbles, above, eagles, one carrying a tree branch off to her nest on the seastack. There are piles of driftwood at the high tide mark and raccoon tracks wandering along the ebb line, digging here and there for morsels from the sea. There's nothing like beach combing a truly wild beach to settle the mind and hone the senses, and, once home, assembling the treasures found , smooth stones, feathers, sea-changed things mysterious and unidentifiable.
Here's a favorite poem by Pablo Neruda:
Si cada dia cae
dentro de cada noche
hay un pozo
donde la claridad esta encerrada
Hay que sentarse al orilla
del pozo de la sombra
y pescar luz caida
con paciencia
If day falls into night
There exists a well
where light is imprisoned
We must sit on the edge of the well of darkness
And fish for fallen light
With patience.
What if the whole ocean is such a well? The patience required of us is just as deep.
Our patience is rewarded with discoveries, wonder and delight.
Remember, beauty is not all rare, priceless or unattainable. It spreads at your feet, soars above your head, fills your lungs and widens your eyes. It is free for the patience you invest in it.
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