A New World

The rain that dissipated to a mist no longer exists.  I’m up and out to see the new world.  Glad to be outside of my boring tent.  That’s right boring.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love my tent.  We’ve been together a very long time.  I would never betray it!

My tent is roomy but always arranged in the same way.  Every piece of gear and stuff has its place.  That’s my grove.  My organization.  It makes for easy living and efficiency in packing and unpacking.

However, the decor is no different.  It never changes.  My tent is always the same size, shape and color, both inside and out.  The light of the sun and moon are the only variables that create some variation . However, the degree their influence is minute.

I stretch and then walk down beautiful steps made of island rock and stone.  I want to stand on the naked shore, open and exposed, as the tidal forces have pushed the sea elsewhere.  And like so many times in other journeys, I must grasp this moment.  I want to see it all as if in a bubble, memorizing every detail so as not to forget.  I smell the air and look out over the sea.  I feel the air, moist against my skin.  And then, I stop.  Still as a statue.  What was that behind me?  I turn and face the steps.

Someone had a vision, an idea for preserving this place.
Others understood and gathered round.
I see furrowed foreheads weighted with concern,
For the concert between an island and the sea.
Someone drew up a plan.
Others commented.
After a short time,
The many agree to the final draft
Of what was only a thought.

The work begins.
A group of volunteers,
Bearing no thought for pay or compensation.
All that matters is to repair the damage,
And preserve the future.
Stone and rock are chosen,
Sifted and Sorted.
Infrastructure completed.
Erosion contained,
Preparing the way.
From one to the next,
The stones are set in place.

I imagine grit and laughter.
Problems to solve and problems solved.
I certainly know this.
For now I stand,
On just one step.
Firm beneath my feet,
Enjoying the feel of this new world.

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About Just Jude

I grew up on a small farm in Michigan but have always felt the urge to wander and began doing so as a teenager. Since that time, I've hiked, biked and paddled in every season; not for sport, but for the journey.

Posted on March 18, 2015, in Casco Bay, Jewell Island, Maine, Kayaking, Maine Coast, Photos, Rocks, Solo Journeys, Twenty One Days at Sea and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Judy, Beautiful shot! Enter it in this years art show. include your words on back to put it all in context if you want. .framing is on me…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is beautiful! I love how you take time to think about the back-stories of what you see. Doing so adds much richness to the world–or rather, allows us to tap into the richness already there!

    Liked by 1 person

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