Sheltering Places …

I have always been attracted to water …be it fountains or streams or oceans. Water has a “settling effect on me. I have come to enjoy the many facets of water as I experienced them. There is the cooling sensation, whether from the temperature of the water itself or the movement of air past and around the water there is the visual effects of water, the mirror of what is surrounding a containment of water. If I am fortunate to have polarizing lenses on my sunglasses, I can see down into the depths, to the very bottom of a pond or stream.  Water, at various times has a force, certainly the sounds of the braking waves of the ocean or the rush of the rapids as a stream or river cascades from one elevation to another. There is also an adventurous aspect of water. I remember as a youngster taking my fly rod, a few flies and walking along a river, out of site of familiar territory going deeper in quest of the special spot to cast a line. Hours would get lost and before you knew it darkness was approaching. Why was it the way back, the return trip seemed shorter than the outbound. And why is it I could never seem to retrace my steps and return to the exact same rock? In later years, I would drive to a stream and park within walking distance of the favorite spot. I has become very pleasant for me to wade out mid-stream … make a few casts and then change flies, pausing to listen to the wind, notice the sounds of the birds, see what hatch is coming off the water. All in all I may actually have spent more time looking and listening than trying to attract a fish. There is the serenity of a beach walk. Certainly in the mid-Atlantic coast the beaches are wide and flat…contrasted to the pacific coastline which is more rugged and allows for shorter periods of reflection. In these ocean areas, of course I am always aware of the magnitude of the sea waters. The shear force available, the environments below the surface about which we know very little, the weather effects on the surrounding land areas, and of course, a windy day at the coast clears the detritus in the head. 


Poetry, Prose

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