Cliff Pond, Nickerson State Park, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
I love Mallards...
For them, the life looks to be much more than plain survival.
Enjoying the beach, immersed in grooming,
must-do work and pleasure come hand in hand.
And then the views,
playing with the water in full grasp of the moment,
in perfect fusion with the spirit of the place...
Cliff Trail, Nickerson State Park, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
Kettle ponds, an accident created by the retreat of glaciers,
sparkle in the silence,
not that far from the roaring ocean...
Walking the trails around the ponds makes me feel the trees and lichens on these sandy grounds.
Many of them pioneers, survivors and, today, the happy crowds. Or so it seems.
Happy crowds!
The words usually assigned by humans to humans.
But what does this really mean?
Well...
These crowds are shaping, coloring, energizing and I find myself in the midst of IT.
So, I guess, it is about me... but it is also about them...
Nauset Light Beach, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
... in the endless rhythmic motions and sounds of waves...
Nauset Light Beach, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
Somewhere in ocean, perhaps a thousand miles and more from this beach,
the pulse beat of earth liberates a vibration, an ocean wave...
Once created, the wave...begins its journey through the sea...
It approaches the continent...courses ashore, breaks, dissolves, is gone.
The innermost waters it last inhabited
flow back in marbly foam to become a body to another beat...
So it goes night and day,
and will go till the secret heart of earth strikes out its last slow beat,
and the last wave dissolves upon the last forsaken shore...
HENRY BESTON, The Outermost House
Crane Beach, Massachusetts
High tide brings the ocean closer.
Barefoot, stop and wait for the wave to splash my legs.
Then comes another...
and so it goes.
Each one singular in form, sound, and touch,
yet all of them with each other,
swashing through this sandy world in gloriously orchestrated movements,
while Sandpipers take a nap...
Great Brook Farm State Park, Massachusetts
Through the corridor of wildflowers between the cornfields.
Colorful, buzzing amalgam of energy,
transcends physical bounds...
Who is the ONE ?
A bee or a petal ? A butterfly or a flower ?
A hummingbird in the moment of repose,
or this cloud, high-up in in the blue ?
