“Broken glass both sharp and fragile surviving rip tides and travelling depths unknown. Shattered. Abandoned. Exiled in icy waters – tumbling until the jagged edges soften, polished in a way that could never be achieved on its own. Transformed by time and hardship, into something beautiful.”
“I have enough sea glass, said no one, ever …”
“Make art every day.”
Since I was young, I loved to be involved in some form of art creation. One of my favourite Christmas presents ever, besides books! … was from Mom and Dad – construction paper, scissors, tape, and a few pencil crayons. I remember vividly.
Over the years, I have graduated from paper and scissors to folk art painting, glass painting, knitting, quilting, embroidery, beading, jewelry, scrapbooking and cardmaking, etc. Most hobbies require a lot of storage space! Beading/jewelry, as a craft, needs far less space to store those expensive but tiny supplies. The lovely part of this “living by the sea” – is that the sea glass and mussel shells are free, and part of the enjoyment is knowing you found the pieces yourself, thrown up by the tide. I am grateful to the shops here who have been able to sell my creations – jewelry, keychains, photocards, etc. as part of their tourism efforts – a mutually beneficial relationship.
I find that I heavily lean to the seaside themes these days, or at least its colours – the sea always inspires!
When I first arrived, due to the Covid restrictions for quarantining, I was not able to shop for birdseed and missed being able to enjoy the feeding birds through my window when I woke up. However, once I had the chance, I was able to fill up the various feeders and …. they came. Bluejays and juncos, among others. Given my last post on the special gray jay moment, I couldn’t have the bluejays not get due representation here as well!
“Be someone’s sunshine when their skies are grey.”
Yesterday was a difficult day for me personally – those days happen. Today, when I got up I determined, despite my difficulties, to make the most of it for Bella and I. Made my coffee to go, and went for a drive through Port Blandford, when the rain started. I decided to give Bella a good walk, so we drove on through Terra Nova to Sandy Cove Pond. It was spitting rain, but Bella deserved to run around a little after a couple of indoor days, so off we went. We ended up doing the whole trail, the rain held off, and the gloomy day actually brightened my heart as we got some exercise together and enjoyed the solitude on the trail. Sometimes the rain and wet accentuates the muted beauty – the lichen, the rocks, the trees, the groundcover.
And sometimes on the path, as in life, you have to cross bridges and streams, turn curves, walk in the rain, climb the hills, and move branches or trees that have fallen and are obstacles. And sometimes you’ll see the hard work of others along the way, and you’ll find a spot to rest, or be joined by an unexpected visitor. Or someone will reach out to encourage you. (That happened today – as I was walking I received a text from a dear friend, the end of which said “Longing to see you”.) How amazing is that – such an unexpected and uplifting message to my heart!
Well the beaver’s hard work was evident, the rest spot welcome and the unexpected visitor came in the form of a gray jay. Mom and I walked this trail many times and she always loved to hear and see the gray jays here and elsewhere, like Algonquin Park.
What a delight to get back to the parking lot with Bella, after enjoying her running free and smelling all the smells to be had, and come upon another group of gray jays waiting for us at the “finish line”. Bella kindly shared her treats with them, via my hand. They were so friendly and trusting, and it was such a special blessing to have that moment with them, as though they knew my soul needed a little uplifting.
We drove back to our Sanctuary by the Sea, as the sky brightened and lo and behold, a lovely rainbow was there waiting for us right over the lighthouse. I didn’t get a photo of it as Bella was anxiously anticipating breakfast, but it was a lovely reminder that no day stays grey forever.
Ya think? Thanks for the warning!
“But where, after all, would be the poetry of the sea if there were no wild waves?”
Joshua Slocum
Awesomeness – watching the waves crash in at Keels, Hodderville and Cape Bonavista today …
Often a drive in the evening will find you a moose or a fox (though less likely now than in the early years). Mom and I enjoyed seeing this pair one evening outside their den, off the Crow Head Road up to the lighthouse in Twillingate. They were not the least disturbed at our presence, and it was thrilling to watch them for a long time, grooming each other, resting, play-fighting and their curiosity of us without fear. Most of the foxes we see here are crosses – various colourings, rarely full red as those we see back in Ontario.
“The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
I am so grateful that my property affords me views of the moonlight over the water. I can well recall the summer the capelin were rolling, and the moon shone across the bay, lighting up the myriads of silvery fish dappling the surface as they came in to spawn. It was a spectacle I shall never forget, and I stayed up well past midnight to enjoy it.
My dear niece and I have our love for the moon in common, and inwardly feel its “gravitational pull“. I often think of her in a quiet moment, with “one last look” before I head to bed, and see the next morning that she was taking pictures of it too!
“And they danced by the light of the moon …”
On my driving tours around this scenic province, I love to see the old wooden churches, their varied designs, steeples, unique windows, and to explore the adjoining cemeteries. Sadly, it is hard for some of the small communities with dwindling congregations to maintain them, and some are in disrepair. But I can imagine the initial community members giving up their time, sharing together in labour, milling the wood, shingling the roofs, building the interior finishes, and the proud day they would have had the grand opening, the first sermon, the first wedding, the first funeral, the first baptism. These structures are often on the high point of the community, speaking to the importance of faith and God, and giving that pre-eminence, which sadly is no longer the case today.
Newfoundlanders, more than any others I know, take advantage of those sea breezes to air their laundry. But know this … clothing may not be the only thing you spot on the line – multitaskers they are!
sanctuarybythesea 