I’m starting a new series of reflections, calling it “Snapshots.” If you’re reading this, I thank you for your interest! And I and invite you to share any reflections of your own.
Being a coast dweller is about living on the edge of two worlds. The land side is close, warm, familiar, where space is bounded by lots, streets, neighborhoods, communities, cities, parks, states, countries. The ocean side is distant, cool, mysterious, unbounded, all-inclusive and all encompassing.
Being a coast dweller shapes our lives in ways we’re aware of and ways we’re not.
My days are a fugue woven of flowers and boats; of sun and mist, of bright, piercing bird calls and the cool, background rhythm of the fog horn. I turn inward toward the land when it’s time to get things done, and outward toward the ocean when it’s time for wonder.
After 72 years on this planet and 35 years on the coast, I’ve come to the conclusion that one way or another, wherever we live, we’re all coast dwellers.
Before I first met you, I saw you standing on the deck of a boat headed toward shore. Maybe you saw me the same way. Then we walked over to the beach, took off our shoes, and wiggled our toes in the sand.