December 26: Plum Island

Where waves meet sand

instead of sandpipers

wind-skitter of dead leaves.

 

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

January 18: Out in the cold again

The three-hour direct flight from Punta Gorda to Bangor has its blessings--no layovers, no lost luggage--as well as its downside: we were returned to the cold and imminent snow much too quickly.

Flurry of snow
reminds us of the white sands
we left behind.

January 17: Beaches

Spent our last full day in Florida soaking up the seaside sun and warmth with a second hike at Stump Pass State Park and a visit to the beach at Blind Pass State Park on Manasota Key. So much to love: shorebirds at surf's edge, diving pelicans, sea grapes, crying ospreys, dolphins passing by offshore, colorful shells tumbled by waves, a gopher tortoise thoughtfully chewing on a blade of grass, anoles rustling among dry palm fronds, and always the ancient rush and rhythm of the waves...

 

Sand slows my steps.

I breathe

in time with waves.

 

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March 18: Beach

I told someone recently that my preferred habitat is the beach. The combination of the expanse of sand encroached by the ever-shifting ebb and flow of waves, where land meets sea, makes for a dynamic place of constant change. At Clam Pass Beach in Naples, Florida today, I was in my element: terns, gulls, skimmers, and sandpipers flocked near our towels, shells piled up at the wave line, dolphins swam offshore through aquamarine waves, pelicans and frigatebirds soared overhead, sand scoured my bare feet, waves sang the rhythms of the deep, my nieces built sandcastles, and my husband was happily occupied fishing in a mangrove-lined inlet.

 

On the beach

even surrounded by people

I find my space.

 

Posted with Blogsy