Morning 'sunrise'.
Since my arrival here three days ago the sea has shifted from calm to agitated, and the wind from calm to wild. Over the past few weeks the beach has morphed from pristine sand to the unimaginable clutter of rocks, shells, seaweed and driftwood.
I am continually amazed at the power of the sea and wind in setting its own agenda, which gets me considering the power I have to set my agenda for silence, solitude and simplicity here at the cottage. I do what I can to follow my bliss and enjoy the moment, and, when I remember, to hope to ‘do no harm’. Even as I love all the kinds of weather I experience, I am well aware that the sea and wind does harm, and that hope plays no part in wild waves or rock filled beaches. Hope is a human concept, personal and fragile.
In a little bit I’m going to go out for my walk. I’m in control of how I bundle up, but that’s about it. Very likely, I’ll be hoping for the wind to die down and the sun to come out.
I am continually amazed at the power of the sea and wind in setting its own agenda, which gets me considering the power I have to set my agenda for silence, solitude and simplicity here at the cottage. I do what I can to follow my bliss and enjoy the moment, and, when I remember, to hope to ‘do no harm’. Even as I love all the kinds of weather I experience, I am well aware that the sea and wind does harm, and that hope plays no part in wild waves or rock filled beaches. Hope is a human concept, personal and fragile.
In a little bit I’m going to go out for my walk. I’m in control of how I bundle up, but that’s about it. Very likely, I’ll be hoping for the wind to die down and the sun to come out.