Beauty competition on the east coast.
The beauty of the trees,
the softness of the air,
the fragrance of the grass……speaks to me.
The summit of the mountain,
the thunder of the sky,
the rhythm of the sea…speaks to me.
The faintness of the stars,
the freshness of the morning,
the dewdrop on the flower…speaks to me.
The strength of fire,
the taste of salmon,
the trail of the sun,
and the life that never goes away,
they speak to me.
And my heart soars.
Poem: Chief Dan George
Photo: Nairn Beach, Scotland by moi
The sun rises every morning without fail regardless of weather or the politics of man.
We may or may not witness this miracle but it happens nonetheless.
I’d begun to take this miracle for granted.
Proximity creates familiarity.
How many sunrises have I photographed?
How many sunrise images do I have on my hard drive?
Recently, I would waken early but lie there thinking…..
Oh, it’s almost sunrise. Do I NEED another sunrise image?
So, I simply stopped going out to observe and photograph sunrises.
Photographing sunrises wasn’t the point.
Witnessing sunrises was.
Witnessing sunrises has been my morning ritual, my morning meditation, my ocean-labyrinth walk.
Photography was only the side show.
Over time photographing and sharing the event began to overshadow the morning meditation.
Dancing Cloud (C) 2014 by Debi Bradford
There’s magic wherever you look on a morning beach.
Simply being on the beach is a blessing.
Sand between my toes is a balm.
A refreshing surf splashing on my legs is bliss.
Wind whipping my hair into knots brings laughter.
Gulls laughing overhead brings joy.
The sound of crashing waves drowns out the world.
It’s only me and the sea.
Salt air fills and cleanses my lungs.
Walking the beach strengthens my legs, my heart, my soul.
Sit a Spell (C) 2014 by Debi Bradford
So, I took very few images this morning.
Instead, I sat on a rental’s beach steps and watched the morning gently stretch and waken.
Walking back I stopped to rest on the boardwalk bench.
Life is good.