Weathering

Something about being on the beach is so soothing for me.  Early morning, when the only sound is the rythymic lapping of the waves, the occasional call of the soaring gull, or the far off tone of the foghorn, is when peace begins to settle in and transportation to another world, far from the news and the cell and yes the computer, comes into focus.  I think I love it so because it brings me back to childhood, when life was SO much simpler.

Last weekend Jackie and I took our first beach walk in months.

This is a actually a pic from last summer, but it's one of my favorites of him.  He's truly my very best beach bud.

At first glance, this could be a beach scene . . .water in the distance, froth as the tide rolls in.  But it's a close up of a section of weathered wood.  I find it amazing how the sea sometimes replicates nature itself just by the process of churning things around.

What I LOVE . . .  the simple joy of finding a treasure which the sea has offered me at no cost.  Years and years of churning waves and sun have sanded, smoothed and bleached the roughest of all edges, until all that is left is a perfect, clean and different object than it was before.  Maybe this process is similar to the one we all go through as we live each day, each week, each year.  Peeling back the layers, discarding the superfluous in our lives, and finally coming to understand that the circle of life can lead us back to the simple pleasures of our childhood if we let it.  Some people call it aging, but I prefer to think of it as weathering.  And weathering is a very good thing.

   

I'm always on the lookout for a beautiful piece of mermaid's tear (aka beach glass), or some interesting piece of weathered and bleached beach wood which may have washed up . . .

This piece of driftwood would have made a cool low table.  I saw it at dusk, uncovered it from the seaweed and wrack, but it was way too hard for me to move by myself.  About 5' long and super heavy, but such a great sculptural piece.  I decided to wait and get help moving it in the morning.  Too late. Gone. Somebody else with help must have come along, and now they've got MY amazingly wonderful piece of wood.  I knew I should have covered it up again.

When I saw this last summer from a distance it appeared to look like two dancers (birds maybe), on the beach, frozen in time . . . it really was standing just like this at the crest of the dune.

Every summer, off and on I re-read Anne Morrow Lindburgh's Gifts from the Sea.  Don't know how many times this classic has been reprinted since published in 1955, but I do know that Anne's amazing ability to express her own life stages is still inspiring and restorative, no matter how many times I pick it up.

A few years ago I made this from my collection of driftwood.  I love the way it reminds me of beach simplicity.




In the shop now are some summery simple beach things for your home . . . more coming this week!

Have a relaxing restorative day!