cascading waves
by Elouise
cascading waves break
in calm rhythmic procession—
fiddler crabs scurry
* * * * *
I loved trips to the beach on Tybee Island
back in the 1950s when it wasn’t famous, and
sunblock and skin cancer seemingly hadn’t been discovered.
Anyone could just drive out for the day,
slather oily suntan lotion all over,
soak in the beauty and vastness of the ocean
and ignore the gritty sand that seeped into everything.
PB and jelly sandwiches never tasted better.
Today when I visit a quiet seashore with a beach
it becomes a little homecoming:
Nurturing, reconnecting, relaxing, larger than life itself.
Not unlike these more everyday homecomings
that mesmerize and ground me:
the hum of summer cicadas
the sound of wind rustling through trees
a steady heartbeat
slow rhythmic breathing
sunrise transforming the morning sky
moon and stars suspended in a crystal-clear night sky
clouds of gnats swarming in the air
sweet robin-song at dusk
fireflies flickering on and off
bats dancing in the evening sky
flocks of snow geese taking elegant flight
Canadian geese traveling noisily across the autumn sky
human voices echoing faintly across the water
multicolored flowers shimmering in a distant garden
clouds drifting across an Atchison blue sky
the sound of silence
* * *
Haiku written 16 June 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 June 2014
Telling the Truth 
I was waiting for the fireflies! They are one of my favorite aspects of summer. (You can have the gnats, though.) And is this silence articulate?
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Glad you found them! Gnats are so weird. Generally, I don’t care for them at all. However, when they swarm in clouds (of gnats, that is) with the sun hitting them just right, I can’t stop watching them (from a safe refuge, of course)! Like swarms of fish in the sea, though I can’t see them most of the time…. As for silence. Always ‘articulated’ in my heart–not in words. Pointed to yet unseen. Sort of like God?
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Yes, very much like God; or perhaps where God also resides. Pascal comes to mind – his comments about the heart’s reasons & also about the world’s miseries (coming about due to our inability to be still in our own rooms). But also Eliot in the closing section of Little Gidding “…heard, half-heard, in the stillness between two waves of the sea…” That silence is alive. Or John of the Cross: “The Father spoke one Word, which was his Son, and this Word he speaks always in eternal silence, and in silence must it be heard by the soul.” Very much in keeping with your comment about ‘articulated’ in your heart.
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Meg, Thanks for these splendid allusions and quotes! Yes, this silence is alive.
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I love this, Elouise, and feel the same way about the beach…a homecoming yes. I have started a Eucharisteo journal, writing in it just such a list as you have made here of the gifts I notice that God so lavishly gives…I smiled as I read YOUR list, my sister. AND I tried very hard not to be jealous that you are quiet enough to notice your slow rhythmic breathing…how I crave those moments but have to “work so hard” to find them, it seems. Thank you again for sharing your thoughts which so often link with my own.
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You’re so welcome, Nancy. I’m smiling as I read your response! Your journal sounds like a gem, and I know you’ll fill it. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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We vacationed a few years back at Tybee. 🙂
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Isn’t it gorgeous? There’s nothing like fine southern sand–stretching out forever it seems.
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