Walking. Could it be this moment…Could it be…?

~ Live & Learn

55° F.

Soft breeze, a kiss on the cheek. Clouds heavy, but quiet.

Here we are (again), on our daybreak walk at Cove Island Park.  722 consecutive (almost) days. Like in a row.

We’re semi-functioning on 4 hours sleep, max.  I can’t sleep.  Near-Dead Man Walking.

I’m at the highest point on the Island, overlooking the expanse of the Sound.

And there it was.

Lori’s Large word: ethereal…So delicate. So light. Lightly Child, Lightly.

“…a light that could be a feeling…”

And the beat of those wings, thrumming inside of me.

“…a sound could be a color”

I’m frozen, eyes locked on the wings…Get the damn camera up Man, get it up!

“…and that heaven could be…this moment…”

Now!

You’re going to remember this…

Notes:

  • Photo: DK @ Cove Island Park, 5:42 a.m. May 12, 2022. More photos from this morning here.
  • Quote: “I hadn’t known that a light could be a feeling and a sound could be a color and a kiss could be both a question and an answer. And that heaven could be the ocean or a person or this moment or something else entirely.” —  Megan Miranda, Fracture. (Walker Childrens; January 17, 2012) 

13 thoughts on “Walking. Could it be this moment…Could it be…?”

  3. Beautiful, pal. Your musings brought to mind this Mary Oliver poem….

    Egrets
    by Mary Oliver

    Where the path closed
    down and over,
    through the scumbled leaves,
    fallen branches,
    through the knotted catbrier,
    I kept going. Finally
    I could not
    save my arms
    from thorns; soon
    the mosquitoes
    smelled me, hot
    and wounded, and came
    wheeling and whining.
    And that’s how I came
    to the edge of the pond:
    black and empty
    except for a spindle
    of bleached reeds
    at the far shore
    which, as I looked,
    wrinkled suddenly
    into three egrets – – –
    a shower
    of white fire!
    Even half-asleep they had
    such faith in the world
    that had made them – – –
    tilting through the water,
    unruffled, sure,
    by the laws
    of their faith not logic,
    they opened their wings
    softly and stepped
    over every dark thing.

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  4. Lovely! And again, the blues from your other shots this morn have nailed me. Every good or beautiful thing we see or experience is not only a Gift to us, but is His tabernacle (even that *two-headed* seagull!). We cannot escape His goodwill.

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