To the ocean

[vaneramos]

Photo: Old Man Willow, Sept. 29

~~~~~~~~~~

[From Toronto]

We're back together in the dark now. With my beard pressed against your neck, if I breathe deep enough and use my imagination, I can still smell the California salt brine, feel the grey sand on your skin.

I visited the ocean many times when I was young. Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia. North Rustico on Prince Edward Island. Chincoteague in Virginia. Even Florida a couple times. All those place I visited with my parents.

But best of all was the time I flew to Vancouver alone. I was 23 and had just graduated with a degree in biology and had a few days to spare before starting the journalism program. So I went alone for a week, rented a car, took the ferry to Vancouver Island and drove across to Pacific Rim. Stopped at Cathedral Grove and wandered among the Douglas firs.

At the destination I parked the car and carried all the camping equipment on my back to the beach. I had to walk for a few minutes through woods and scrub. A rufus hummingbird dive-bombed me, a winged creature the size of my baby finger with the ferocity of an enraged bull.

At the top of the beach I set up my tent, and for the next four days did practically nothing, no agenda. I had never traveled anywhere alone before. Wandering over the dunes I pulled out my field guide and identified every wildflower I came across. It was April and the weather was milder than expected. Mist blew off the peaceful ocean every morning, one day a little drizzle, but otherwise the weather was fine.

Nothing could match the wonder of the tide pools, tiny cities of treasure left among the rocks when the waters withdrew. Forests of anemones, crowds of orange and purple starfish, and curious hermit crabs scuttling and squabbling across the basins. I took many photographs using my polarizing filter to cut the glare, see these complex gardens in untarnished beauty. I have those images somewhere still, buried in the leafy detritus that has fallen from my life over the years.

I walked through the temperate rainforest, saw the hulking corpses of fallen firs, nurse trees, the dead giving up their flesh for a new generation of giants. If anyone had stumbled off the path he would have gotten lost in an impassable tangle of salal forever. I saw all that crumbling rotting glory of life and got a fresh sense of my own mortality, the very fragility of the world.

I had never been alone that way, amid so much wonder, and no one to share it with but my own heart. It was a beginning of self-awareness. I was still afraid to be alone, but took a foothold on the perilous cliff of my own companionship, dizzying at times.

How I long to wander among those dunes again, or spend an hour in one place, watching the scurrying life of an aquatic world. I have always loved to travel, discover new places. A relationship is a voyage, too. Like Darwin on the Beagle we encounter bizarre creatures and gain the first insights into truths no one else has ever thought of. Each of us is a new world for the finding. Yes, I love to wander.

But now we are home, and all is well with the world. I would rather be nowhere else. I'm holding the ocean in my arms.

Comments

[writer00.livejournal.com]

Once again, you've written something evocative and beautiful.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thanks for your words.

[rsc.livejournal.com]

Yet another beautiful "free writing" from Van. And that willow picture is stunning.

The Pacific Rim park on Vancouver Island -- and especially that rainforest. We were there three or four years ago, and it is one of the most awe-inspiring environments I have ever had the good fortune to experience.

Nothing could match the wonder of the tide pools

You must visit us sometime between May and October, and we'll be sure to take you to Halibut Point in Rockport.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thanks, I'll admit this one wrote itself in my head while I was riding the subway home from downtown this afternoon. That's what my journal is about these days: putting my mind in the path of ideas.

That visit would be wonderful. I have a cluster of friends in the Boston area, so it's a priority whenever I can afford the trip. Not soon, I'm afraid.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

But only a flickering glimpse of the beloved. :-)

Thank you.

many sweat hugs to you love

[djjo.livejournal.com]

It's humbling seeing your words, especially at the end of a day at work where there is no love and very little good emotions.

One day I want to go to the ocean with you. The shore, the forests, the quiet. It would be magic.

And your last picture is amazing.

Smoooches. Time to get back to work. Danny

Re: many sweat hugs to you love

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

You inspired the words, so don't let them humble you. If they lift your spirits a little, that is good. I hope we make it to the ocean. Wherever we go, I'll be content in your good company.

[leafshimmer.livejournal.com]

When I'm lying in the loft at the Farm holding my Sweetie in my arms listening to his breathing as he sleeps, I wonder how I ever came to such a fortunate place in my life.

And the beauty takes my breath away...

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Sometimes good things happen to good people, Shimmer.

*hugs*