When I went back to the sea
it wasn't waiting.
Neither had it gone away.
All its musics were safe and sound; the circling gulls
were still a commonplace, the fluted shells
rolled on the shore
more beautiful than money --
oh, yes, more beautiful than money!
From "The Return" by Mary Oliver
Labels:
BeachMary Oliver
Poem
I love these pics. And yes, the froth covered shoe, white on white, is between sublime and subliminal. I remember indulging myself during a long drive down Oregon's rugged, fabulous, deserted Pacific coast beaches---deserted that is except for seagulls. I lay down in the sand for a nap and awoke some time later with the memorable experience of being surrounded at close quarters by maybe a hundred seagulls...all silently giving me the eye. I lay there and looked back at them for a while, thanked them for their kind attention, and they all wandered away when I began to stir and pull myself together... I REALLY LIKE the pic of the seashells. I'm intrigued at the thought of incomprehensible numbers of little sea creatures lives lived and known by their Creator and the beauty of that little tiny legacy.
ReplyDeleteHad I been there, would I have appreciated the beauty of the moment? Your photos have inspired me to enjoy the moment I'm living now...
ReplyDeletethank you.