Beach Glass and Other Miracles...I may never see an angel, but I have felt the rush of wings as a blue heron lifted off our pond. I may never see all the far away places I have dreamed of, but I have seen a lone red fox run along our creek bank under a brilliant moon. I have heard coyotes raise their voices as twilight fell. The world’s great riches may pass me by, but a wealth of tiny blessings touches me every day.
The most valuable thing I have ever found while wandering along the local shoreline was a bit of amber beach glass, worn smooth by the churning of the water. I found another piece; an incredible shade of aqua. The miracle is not that beach glass exists - that is easily explained - the miracle is that we care. Both of those bits of time-tumbled glass ended up in my pocket, and later in a purple-stemmed cordial glass in my china cabinet. Why do we pick up broken bits of glass and save them? Why do we hold on to an interesting stone with unusual coloration? Why do we take home a handful of tiny seashells, when there are a million others just like them still lying on the beach?
For me, these “saved bits” are just tactile reminders of the greatest wonder of nature: the mystery of it all. The mystery, energy and majesty of the universe are present in the gust of wind from the heron's wings as it lifts into flight, and in the stealth of the fox as it moves along the creek bank, and in the wild, sweet sound of the coyote’s cry. I cannot hold those things in my hand, so I save a little touchstone, or talisman, to remind me of the wonders I have been fortunate to encounter.
I haven’t been as adventurous as I once thought I would be. The things I’ve achieved in life are not the grand things I once imagined I would achieve. I live in a small house on a windy hill, not on the world stage at the pinnacle of success. But, how can I complain that life is ordinary, when I can walk in the rain and be drenched with nature’s blessings, immersed soul-deep in the mystery of it all?
photo by Aisling, Summer 2006
6 comments:
Marcie, your thoughts remind me of something I just read from Gladys Taber.
"I suppose I am a sparrow, a stay-at-home bird. Travel is so alluring, but our own forty acres offers enough adventure for a lifetime." This was in a letter she wrote to a friend which she signed, Mrs. Sparrow. I find that I too am a Mrs. Sparrow. There is such a contentment that comes from what may be spoken of as "small things". I love your blog. Your kindred spirit friend, Nan
Nan, Gladys Taber said that perfectly. I am happy to be a stay-at-home bird, especially at this season of my life. Thank you for sharing those thoughts with me, and for reading my blog.
kindredly, Marcie
Lol. I must be one of Odin's ravens, then. They flew all around the world, watching things, learning, then flew back to tell Odin all they had seen. Kaa-san, does that make you Odin? For that matter, this sort of makes me Elle's muse, doesn't it, as it's based on Huginn and Muninn as well... Those are their names, btw. ^^
In sum, I'm most certainly not a sparrow. lol.
Kailun,
I don't feel like Odin! LOL! How wonderful that you have wings! We can't all be sparrows - so dull a world that would be! And, it is amazing to watch you fly...
Aisling
I loved your mention of the beach glass. My daughter and I collect it when we go to Cape Ann in the Fall and whenever I look at it, I remember the fun of walking with Deb on the beach..or sometimes by myself, with the seagulls screaming overhead and the tide receding and leaving those tiny delights in among the seaweed and miscellaneous junk!
Raindancer,
It is amazing how some tiny thing like a little bit of beach glass can bring back a whole flood of memories! Thank you for reading my blog and taking the time to comment!
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