Tonight I'm thinking about beach houses I've stayed in. And leafing through that atmospheric photography book of Joel Meyerowitz,
A Summer's Day (on Cape Cod). I'm drawn to it every summer and place it on my coffee table here in the southwest until autumn comes and it's put it away for another year.
Something in the air this dusky sunset. I look through photos of beaches I've walked. Light begins to recede, breezes are cool, birds make last sounds before going silent for the night. I leave the slider open until the voice in the next room says "it's cold in here!" and I grudgingly close it. But not yet. I am reveling in that mysterious often-occurring sea scent that has always baffled me -- so far away.
The nearly full moon floats high in the darkening sky and we look forward to a Blue Moon in a couple of days. How cool is
that! All those legends.
Can you hear the waves breaking? I can. Feel the undertow?
Inside water, a waterwheel turns.
A star circulates with the moon.
We live in the night ocean wondering,
What are these lights?
Rumi
No comments:
Post a Comment