| A Cottage by the Sea |
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 One of the first signs of spring for me is the appearance of pussy willows on a particular tree along my walk around the neighborhood; running a close second are the crocuses in our backyard. Pussy willows don’t live in solitude; they need each other to be recognized; they need each other for playmates. Crocuses, on the other hand, are solitary types, even when in clusters. Pussy willows remind me of my youth, crocuses of the present.
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 Here are my thoughts from the deck today as I wind down my time here. Next week will be the last for this season, so today, in preparation, I let the vacuum cleaner break the silence. I know that tidying has to be done, but that was enough for one day. Dusting, kitchen and bathroom cleaning, and changing the linens is for next week, and then, out I go. It will be time to go.
But how to create some of the pieces of solitude at home? It’s a given that there won’t be as much: I have a backlog of friends to see and people to visit, a husband to do things with, and a household to run (including a vacuum cleaner). Although I can’t cover all the clocks in the house, especially all the ones my husband collects and tries to keep running, I can turn off my email during the day, and I can take a good walk. In fact, I’m going to do right now. It is time to go.  I’m sitting here on this clear evening waiting for the moon to rise. According to the charts it should have happened at 5:29, but now, here it is 5:44 with no moon in sight. Maybe it’s too light. At some point I’ll look up, and there it will be, a light round ball sneaking up on me as twilight comes.
When the moon rises in the dark, it is a more dramatic moment. Definitely more powerful than a sunrise. One moment, the sky is dark except for a few stars, and then a bright orange crescent of light on the horizon, and then more and more, and voila, the moon is saying, among other things, “You can count on me, but don’t mess with me.” P.S. I looked out at 6:30 and there was the moon, looking like one of the white clouds. When did it sneak on the scene?  I always know that my cottage by the sea days are coming to an end when, on a sunny Sunday afternoon beach chairs are scattered along the beach. Humanity is settling in. Today, along with seaweed and rocks, the beach was cluttered with people looking for sea glass, flying kites, walking their dogs and just sitting.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. I feel no title of ownership here, no position of privilege. Rather, I am is grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to live this existence of silence, solitude and simplicity, which is at its mysterious best in the winter months when those on the beach are in their own world. In the dark of winter silence is palpable, simplicity a given and solitude accepted as the norm. As the days lengthen, community becomes the rule. Two more weeks here seems just about right.  Just a quick check in. I haven’t had a minute to work on sending a slideshow on my blog. I know what to do, but it’s time, time, time that has gotten away from me. Such is life back here in my home civilization. What bothers me is that time doesn’t open up at the cottage either. I’ll have to ponder that one, but not until I get a good night’s sleep. Buona notte.
 I had a wonderfully simple experience at the Apple Store today on my way home from the cottage. Although I use iPhoto every day, I figured that over time I would attend each of the three workshops, thus systematically covering everything available. Today was to be Workshop One.
So there I was sitting at the workshop table all by myself. And then Grace appeared, introduced herself, and explained that since I was the only one to sign up, she and I would have a one-on-one training. And so we began--an hour and a half of back and forth, giving and receiving. We covered it all. This was learning at it’s best. Now all I need to do is practice and remember. Please bear with me as I see how simple all of this is. I’m going to create a small little slide show and put it on this blog. If it doesn’t show up today, I’ll keep trying. Oops, I tried. More work to be done on my part. Maybe I need a YouTube account.  Taken this afternoon. Look familiar? Simple observations during a 24 hour mid-March storm watch.
• A quick glance at the internet forecast is the only weather report I need. • If I wait long enough, I don’t have to shovel the steps or dig out my car. • I can cover the clocks in the cottage, but I can’t avoid noticing the time when I want to take a photo. • I don’t need to know what time it is in order to know that I’m hungry or sleepy. • Wind and tide seem to dump and remove seaweed at whim. • Closing my email during the day is currently the best way I know to stay in the present moment. • I have the best view, rain or shine,  I’m back at the cottage for the week. This morning I turned off my email and covered the clocks for the day, which instantly, yes instantly, increased my sense of silence and simplicity. The chatter in my head abated and become less complicated, and although I kept my phone on in case of emergencies, I was unplugged from all physical human communication. In its place, a new simplicity. But don’t get me wrong. I tried to stay present to what was going on around me and some of it seemed quite complicated. For example, consider the life of seaweed. Half the beach was entirely clear of it; then, abruptly the other half of the beach was cluttered with it and sea wall looked like a seaweed wall. Again tomorrow I will turn off the internet, cover my clocks and see how my day goes. Undoubtedly I’ll follow the same general routine but when I walk the beach I probably notice that the seaweed is doing something entirely different and mysterious.  Just when I thought living was getting simple around here, our big maple tree started oozing sap—nature at its most mysterious and regal, and right in our backyard. But does this mean I have to tap the tree, collect the sap and boil it down to maple syrup? I think not.
I knew a teacher who used to set up the entire maple syrup process with her kindergarteners. It was not a simple endeavor but she loved doing it and so did they. Ah those were the days. Teaching wasn’t simple, but we didn’t mind all the effort for the joy we saw on our students’ faces, not to mention the child-like fun we had.  I just have to mention the new pope, Pope Francis. I’m not Roman Catholic but I am hopeful that Pope Francis will be able to manifest some love out there in the world. I don’t think that his name sake was a solitary type, but Saint Francis sure got it right about feeding the poor, caring for the earth and rebuilding a broken church.
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