#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Butter and Eggs at Roaring Brook
The week of our departure has begun. I'm half here, half gone. Thoughts of being away from the sea roll back and forth in my head, even as I quickly and carefully, stride over the dry rocks at low tide. I can't help counting down, these finite number of days left of this vacation, this rental house, this summer season.
“The sea
seemingly a constant to the naked eye is one
long goodbye, perpetually the tide recedes,
beaches dotted with debris. Unto each is given
a finite number of addresses, ditties to dart
the heart to its moments of sorrow and swoon. ”
How remarkable it is to feel so nourished, body, mind an spirit, by any of the finite number of addresses I've been granted. And, soon, to another, I'll return.
All text and photos copyright Kelly DuMar 2017