Field Note 02:
We went on an outing to the beach — my husband, daughter, sister, and niece.
My husband went to fish, to have some alone time to just be and think.
My daughter went to fly a kite, play in the sand, and wade in the bird water.
My sister and niece came to witness her joy and to join it.
I went to reconnect with nature and slowly photograph the wispy dunes, churning waves, and solid jetty.
The Ruddy Turnstones, visitors from the Arctic, were well camouflaged, sporting a duller mottled brown and white rather than the vibrant rust tones found in the breeding season. The flock scurried quickly along the jetty letting me approach, but still preferring to keep a safe distance. They waded in the tidal pool using their bills to search for food among the barnacles and shells.
It was a cold and very windy winter day.
The course sand was flying steadily across the surface. If you bent too low, a grain or two would agitate your eyes.
The wind chill was fierce. It took the feeling out of most of my fingers, leaving them pale and fumbling as I tried to capture the moments of connection between my daughter and a couple of her favorite people.
It wasn’t perfect. The weather challenging. The wind unrelenting.
But, despite that, it gave us each what we needed. Imperfectly and real.
The sandbar
Each day, I awake
Rowing to the special place
Waiting for the tide turned low
From below a sandbar is emerging
In this place that once was not
I let out my full breadth of thoughts
Worries, dreams, anger—
All the same
They find a spot to rest
Grains now intermixed
Each indistinct
Part of a greater whole
And as I sit and watch and wait
The tide starts slowly rising
Layer by layer, sand and water meet
What was solid now is blurring
The last now gone, all at rest
Tucked in a watery bed below
I thank the waves for witnessing
Goodbye until tomorrow
-LC