The day we came home from the coast last week, it was wildly windy. It was hard to hold the camera still for this photo taken at Cape Blanco. It's funny. The thing I liked least about growing up on the prairies of Nebraska was the constantly blowing wind. But ocean winds don't bother me a bit...unless it's sand in the eye. I get quite excited about walking on the beach when it's windy and you don't know what the surf will bring in. The ocean offers wonderful gifts on windy days.
My friend who was with me said that she loved to visit the ocean but wouldn't want to live on the coast as the sea is so restless. I loved visiting there this time around, but it came clear to me that I probably don't want to live there. Maybe it is for that reason. The sea is ever changing. She is different each day, and sometimes her face changes several times a day. Sometimes she is all grey and silvery; misty, pea soup foggy; sometimes she is every color of blue imaginable and it makes you want to sing. Sometimes she is wild and stormy and angry looking; her waves pounding the rocks.
Spirit is often like the sea, and her work changes from one day to the next. Life seems chaotic and painful one day, and the next day, many loose ends come together and suddenly you see the pattern and the beauty of it all. The stormy times often yield up some beautiful treasures for discovery.
If I had my druthers however, I think I would like a calmer existence these days where change comes more slowly, in snippets I can handle. I like my pictures to be in focus. I like the peacefulness of a mountain valley, where the view is expansive, yet the surrounding hills provide some protection for the valley dwellers.
Well, enough metaphors for one very early morning.
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