Reading harold_maude's journal

The first thing that hits you is the smell. Kind of a salty fresh fish smell mixed with cedar and pine.
That's even before the curtian of trees gets pulled out of the way and the end of land comes into view...

The ocean. That wild untamed lady who puts the whole of your world in perspective.
That's where my brain is this morning.
On a particular stretch of beach with one very large rock that goes up and then hits a slant. That's the top of this rock.

There are smaller accompaning rocks, almost attendants to the big rock and then there is the ocean.

When everything in your life feels like too much food in your belly, being there and seeing how it washes over everything puts what you feel, think and worry about in perspective.
The rythem of the waves is calming dispite the reality that they can wash away every standing structure in a heart beat.

If you look out into the blue grey mystery you can see it build.
Gathering momentum, and with each statement of water that crashes and sprays, it gets bigger and bigger.
Then it rolls, huge, white, and beautiful.
It slams against the rocks and makes this incredible deep bass tone that holds you.

It's so beautiful and so perfect. The life that exists in tidal pools has to be strong. There is constant motion when the tide is in. Thoes little individuals are stuck tight to rocks that stay submerged durring high tide and then, only for a brief time do thoes rocks ever get exposed to air.

Hermit crabs. Star fish. Sea anomies. Sea weed. Mussells. The occasional red rock crab. Even more strange is to see a dungeness crab bumping around in one of thoes pools.

Life. In a place where there is no calm. Tough. Existing. Living and dying. Making way for new life. And becomming part of the next generation of what ever species exists there too.

The feel of sand on your feet. The prints in the wet sand that show your journey as you wander. Home.
This place where life is carved out by water and wind makes you aware of something fragile about yourself. And it's ok.

She talks to you. If you listen. She tells you that you are part of her and she part of you. The same thing happens in the mountians by the way. They've been around for alot longer than any of us, and will be standing when we go.

She caresses your soul. Kisses tears away by giving you her's every time the spray of her breath settles on your skin.
She plays with your hair. And you feel her eyes setttle in on your heart.

And with the wisdom of the universe she will wisper to your heart "this too shall pass."

I wish I was there now. I miss her. I miss home.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.

This post was edited by harold_maude on Feb 22, 2005.