IN THE ARMS OF THE WINTER SEA

Winter Sea 5 p.m. 2/5/2020, Pine Knoll Shores, NC

February 6, 2020
We continue at the beach in the arms of the winter sea.  It is dark now with the swells invisible except to the ear.  There they sing louder than thunder.  Sing or crash, more like it.  More like cacophony. Coming from all sides.  The ocean is not soothing tonight.  Bundled up we can sit on the deck and listen.  We're not close enough to feel the spray.  There's a storm coming.  

Earlier today there was no delineation between sand, sea and sky.  A canvas of unpolished pearl.  On days like today even the shore birds stay home.  We saw one lonely Eastern Willet feeding in the surf.  And a splayed pelican not as fortunate, having finished its cycle of life.  Nary a seagull circling nor a crab digging. Everything sheltered. Only surfers who in fact looked like pelicans crouched on their boards as they were and out where the birds usually bob.    


February 7, 2020
It's not just the ocean that's different everyday.  All of nature is.  We never awaken to the same morning as the one before.  Today the froth settled on the sand and at my feet. The wind had brought it in.  
 

Winter Sea 8 a.m. 2/7/2020

A strong wind and red flag, whipping in a brief and sudden moment of clear sky. High Hazard.

I was pelted by sand as I walked.  It's still in my pores hours later.  Poor Mr. Wiggles lifting his leg to pee was blown over.  Embarrassed he tried again and then gave up and squatted.

I thought of the poem:

for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it's always our self we find in the sea.

E.E.Cummings (1894-1962)

Our house at home has lost power twice this week.  It's without power now.  A good week to have missed.  The wind has been strong enough to close schools; not safe for those who walk, between classes or to and from school.  Imagine if the little ones blew over like Mr. Wiggles! But not hurricane-force winds, not like the Fall.  We can still enjoy the bit of chaos it brings.  Our granddaughter and her dad are spending their off-day together. 

So this has been a lovely winter break. In Mary Oliver's poem about "Winter" she writes, "in this world I am as rich / as I need to be."  That's how I feel.