shells

I was born and raised in the desert. There are many things I love about the desert because I am a native. A desert rain, for instance, inspires those lofty quickly building cumulonimbus clouds that blow in with a might force, stirring up the skies with its angry gray, and pelting the parched dirt in great splendor, leaving welted ridges called arroyos that open up to make way for the moving waters. And there is nothing quite as beautiful as the smell of cedar or the flowering cactus………..

Except I have moved near the ocean. I am in the key peninsulas in Washington state. I am enamored, I am in love. I think I shall never tire of walking along the waves as it caresses and licks the sand and rock along the shore. The best lullaby in the world are those breaking rhythmic sounds. Every day I walk alongside the shore, carefully observing the micro and macroscopic new life around me. Some are subtle and you really have to be paying attention. Others announce themselves in the form of the two bald eagles that have made their nest at the end of the spit at Penrose Beach.

When I get tired of the shells and the scalloped seaweed as it flows onto the pebbled rocks I will let you know. Until then, brace yourselves. This is a passionate thing I’m feeling with my universe, and I am going to share its majestic ebb and flow.