Whales, Sun Showers and other Benedictions
We walk on the beach most mornings and late afternoons.
The activity isn’t “exercise”, nor is it a “routine” to bracket our days.
It is Communion. In many ways, it is a holy Practice.
It is communion with ourselves.
It is communion with each Other.
It is communion with Source. With All.
The past several mornings, we have been early enough, that there are few folk there. Maybe a lone early swimmer, a walker or two, or the woman who meditates each morning.
There is Light; the spacious breathing of opalescent sky.
There is the blanket-calmness of the bay, that we know, will soon begin to turn over in its bed, tossing, stretching, reaching its limbs into huge arcs of liquid vigour. Wake up!
Then there is the Sound. Blessed Sound. The sizzle of shushing foam that fingers the sand and our toes. The gurgle of recede as the wave re-turns to its fold. And then, the magic Sound. The sound our feet make as they ‘plash through the water; a conversation of human and edge-of-ocean. A sacred whispered conversation of reverence that almost makes me want to weep.
And this morning, there is the Benediction. Actually, there are several.
It begins to rain; the sun is rising, shining. A sun shower! In my country, this is considered “lucky”, a reason to laugh out loud in joy. The preposterousness of it! Rain, in sunshine. Thank you.
We keep walking. Sand, water — from the sky and around our feet and legs. We look up and out, and our lips mimic the gentle curve of forming Rainbow. We watch as first one arm of Light, then its Other, refract. Then join. Glowing bridge of sacrament.
The sun has woken the ocean. Now there are small waves. Clear green-glass that is really the pure joy of aqua and turquoise masquerading as form.
And, as I watch the distilled light of the rainbow dis-integrate, I see them: Whales. Breathing. Rising and falling. White-wave splashing. Within their own communion.
As we paused, allowing it all to seep into our Beings and about to leave, my Glen turns to me; “Coming to the Beach was like coming to Church”.
And all I can utter, is “Yes”.
Blessings, Narelle Carter-Quinlan at Fig & Agave
