May it continue

My last stop before home

Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastery

in Batesville, Mississippi

I have arrived

I am home

The statue is new

Thich Nhat Hanh and Martin Luther King

holding the words

“Beloved community”

At a campfire

the venerable nuns

with ages of practice

in Vietnam

speak about compassion

We eat toasted corn

drink tea

and sing songs

my offering

comes from our first grade mindfulness practice

breathing in

breathing out

Each of us is searching for 

and finding our

beloved communities

May we be safe and protected.

May we be surrounded by love and kindness.

May we live with ease.

Goodbye dear seashore

My family has a tradition of

saying goodbye to the beach. 

On this morning

I woke before sunrise and

went to the water’s edge

to say goodbye and

to experience

the glories of a rising sun

on the water

A flock of pelicans

found a school of fish and

put on a diving exhibition.

I was alone.

It was good.

As always, I promised to come back.

Sunrise

Contradictions?

There is a naval station

close to the national seashore

In the morning

while reveille is played

a little sand crab

scurries to avoid the heron

During evening taps

the pine trees

loaded with pine cones

stand at attention

On the dunes

grasses wave as

monarch butterflies

flitter and sip nectar

on their migration route

Rosemary tingles my nose

And overhead

the sound of the ocean

is interrupted

by the screaming

of the blue angels

as the planes fly

in formation

first two, then three, then five

At old Fort Pickens,

a relic of the civil and other wars,

the onlookers

wave American flags

Does anyone notice the contradiction?

Part of the fort returning to nature

a beautiful sunset

thunderstorm coming

the dunes

On a boardwalk
created to protect the dunes

acorns on low scrubby
gray barked trees
bent by the wind
surviving in the salt air
shiny thick oval leaves
are these oaks

grasses
with tall and short stems
sway in the wind
Yellow and white and green blossoms
stretch along the dunes
little yellow petaled ones
shaped like daisies

Smell of green and pine
and wild rosemary

breathing in
breathing out
walking meditation

morning is my favorite time at the beach

Cold beach morning
after a day
soaked in sweat
savoring the cool
water of the waves
knocked off my feet
such pleasure

my spot

my fourth beach but who's counting

the birds

The little birds run
in and out of the breaking water
long pointed beaks
poking in and out
of the sand
finding breakfast.
Occasionally
one stays
a little longer and
catches a wave
shimmying after
a bird bath

Other birds hover
over the water
watching
then dive in
emerging with a little fish
in their beaks

Pelicans skim along
and land in the water
sitting and floating

Herons stand and watch
one leg tucked in

All saying good morning
no expectations
living in the present moment.

Of course

I get to spend a lot of time reading. This morning, I opened Mary Oliver's Devotions, to read

I Wake Close to Morning

Why do people keep asking to see
     God's identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
     is more than enough?
Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.
Think of Sheba approaching
     the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
     "Is this the place?"

Pictures from the mountains

I left the coast and traveled inward to the mountains, traveling skyline drive.  Had a beautiful sunset which my camera did not capture well, brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows blazed across the sky. The next day was rain and rising fog.  Also beautiful in its own way. 

Learning

On the first part of this journey, I had a lot of quiet time.  That changed at Assateague.
A woman named Mae invited me to join her family when she learned I was traveling alone.  I thanked her and declined and learned a bit about her and her family while brushing my teeth.  They had managed to stay dry in the rain.

Another man told me all about his solar set up.

Another set of neighbors were college students studying the Chesapeake Bay Watershed on an extended camping field trip.  They were lovely and invited me to join them when a visiting professor gave a lecture on beach ecology using the sand as his chalk board. I learned about saturation and percolation.  He asked me questions and luckily I knew the answers.

Seeing humanity is the greatest gift of this trip.  Families enjoying the beauty of water and forests.  Laughing.  Cooking together.  Telling stories around camp fires.  I am connected to all of these by our shared humanity.  Sometimes it is easy to lose track of that when we divide into factions based on our differing beliefs.

On this trip there has not been time for differences, only what we have in common - our present moment, wonderful lives.

Horses

I woke up this morning to find horse prints in the sand near my car.  Tonight I parked and noticed that near me an animal had bedded down in the weeds the night before.  I wonder if there will be any animal surprises tonight.  I am in bear country so am making sure my doors are locked.  Apparently they are quite resourceful.

Assateague Island

Another Sunday.  Another beach.
Same ocean.  Different waves.
Same salty fishy smell. Different colored sand.

I love the beach.

Sitting in the sand,
butt nested in, eyes closed meditating
I hear children
running, screaming, laughing
"Mom, look at this treasure I found!"
And I remember my time as a child here
turned loose, free in the waves and sand,
back to camp for meals.
Forced to take a cold shower when I got too disgusting.
Crabbing with chicken necks on a string near the bridge foundations.
Clams gathered by dragging a rake that clinked when it hit a shell.

We slept in old army canvas tents
and on rainy nights they filled with water
until we learned not to touch the canvas.
Our marine corps fathers got out their green military shovels
and showed us how to trench
so the water would run away.
And we learned the proper way to drive a tent stake in the sand.

The park has changed.
Providing me with wonder and more to learn.

Inward

I have spent a lot of my time doing for others - using the idea of giving myself away - as a teacher and mother and friend.  That has become a big part of my identity and I am learning about or trying to discover who I am without that need as a part of my daily self.  I go some days without conversation.  I can say thank you with great sincerity to strangers.  I am learning that giving is a need and trying to learn to accept generosity and ask for it when I need it.

Nahant

Nahant is a peninsula and home to a small flourishing community.  My brother and his family live there.  In the middle of a noreaster' I walked down to the beach, stopping at the sunset cafe on the way.  It is a little restaurant with a very basic menu where you order at the counter and then take your seat.  I ordered a hamburger and fries.  The driver of the waste management truck parked on the other side of the street and came in to order his usual, a meatball sandwich with extra cheese.  Everyone who walked in was called by name.  One customer got to see the latest baby pictures.  Everyone was at home.  What a delight. 

The waves were crashing because of the wind.  I enjoyed the walk in the rain and getting wet.  The power is amazing. 

A beautiful drive

I left Acadia with a bit of sadness.  So beautiful.  I took a leisurely drive on blue highways down the coast to stay with Gordon and Barbara, New City friends, in Portland. We feasted on lobsta rolls at the Lobsta Shack, a great spot next to a light house where the waves crashed against rocks, and we could see a moonbeam on the water.  Feeling tremendous gratitude for their hospitality.

The next day I headed to Lou and Loreen's in Nahant, MA where I have been treated to more hospitality in the form of home cooked meals and a chance to catch up with family.  Along the way I again passed through beautiful coastal towns.  In a parallel life I think I am living in a wood framed house on a hill overlooking the bogs not too far from the ocean. 

I was stopped by a couple of draw bridges. 

Hi Ho the Rattlin Bog.  I sang that first grade song all morning after passing these beauties. 

A park in Gloucester with beautiful flowers

A memorial to the women and families of men lost at sea. 

The most gorgeous dahlias I have ever seen.

My set up

A video of my tiny house set up for the night. 

The Beach in Maine

Sitting at the beach with a sock hat and a fleece, socks and shoes to keep warm. So different from my summertime adventures of playing in the water.  I am still mesmerized by the crashing sounds and the diamonds glittering as the sun plays on the water.  A reminder of how small I am in this world.  To be connected to this is such an honor.  Today I smile to the waves who know they are water and don't need to be anything but water.  Water reflecting.

When I started to eat the lunch I brought, a seagull showed up.  Did he hear the rustling of the bag?  I had a little conversation with him.  I don't hear the sound of my voice very often.  He listened.