Walking, 1,769 consecutive (almost) days in a row at Cove Island Park at Daybreak. Like in a row.
Daylight Savings Time change has brought out the Humans. Strike 1. It’s high tide. Strike 2. No clouds. Strike 3. A trifecta signaling a poor photo day.
I walk.
The morning begins to turn. Lailah, a shepherd mix, is ahead of me. That’s her in photo above. She can smell the old guy with candy. Her Mom struggles to contain her, Lailah’s giddy with full body wiggles and a fluffy white tail frantic with anticipation.
Working’ on our night moves… In the summertime, Mmmmmmm In the sweet summertime, summertime
Bob Seger croons Night Moves into my earbuds, and wistfully I drift off to summertime.
17° F, feels like 3° F. Winds gusting from the north up to 25 mph. Tariff some of that!
I walk.
I have four layers on, that is on top and bottom. That’s 4 on bottom: underwear, wool underwear, sweatpants and snow pants. And that’s 4 on top: Sweatshirt, hoodie, jacket with hood and North Face jacket with another hood.
And it’s still short of what’s needed.
I didn’t expect much this morning. High Tide. Few clouds. And bitter cold.
But The Cove failed to disappoint. Again. It’s been 1751 consecutive (almost) days. Like in a Row.
I reach the cliff, and look out to the horizon. The Last Quarter Moon with its moonlight glistens over Long Island Sound.
“Simply look with perceptive eyes at the world about you, and trust to your own reactions and convictions. Ask yourself: ‘Does this subject move me to feel, think and dream?‘” (Ansel Adams)
I’m stirred, the cold falls away, I take the shot. And pause to express my gratitude, for whatever is responsible for the will to get me out of bed this morning, and for whatever granted me the physical ability to make it to this exact spot (and thanking this same Power source in advance to grant me another 1751 days), and for whatever Power put this moon and this moonlight in front of me free of cloud cover at exactly this moment.
I get blessed with this day’s astonishment, I turn back, and head home.
I’m going to remember this.
“God, give us a long winter and quiet music, and patient mouths, and a little pride — before our age ends. Give us astonishment and a flame, high and bright.” (Adam Zagajewski, A Flame)
Post inspired by Charlotte Wood, Stone Yard Devotional: “I once felt a kind of inhabiting presence in myself…something took up space inside me and spread along my shoulders and down my arms, into my fingertips. It was a sensation of heat…This is either a ghost, or it is God…If I had not resisted it, if I had welcomed the heat – even the burning – what might have happened?“
Photo of me by Cara Denison at 6:35 am this morning at low tide. Thank you Cara. 21° F, feels like 8° F, with wind gusts up to 15 mph. January 30, 2025. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. More photos from this morning’s walk here (twilight to sunrise) and here (my duck friends)
Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.
