shadow walk

Is this a photographic example of "juxtaposition" ?!? Perhaps....

I came across this huge piece of driftwood today lying flat on the beach not far from where we saw our upright "Ebenezer" just after New Year's Day (see photo in sidebar of this blog for the story). Of course I had to stop and photograph it. I was struck by the capturing of my own shadow beside it in the sand on my first shot, so I moved my lens a bit to make more room for me and snapped again.

Me. Beside wood. Adrift.

I came to the beach this morning to do some personal shadow work so the synchronicity of this finding was not wasted in the least. When I first arrived, I could not begin to silence the chatter in my busy brain. All kinds of dialogue about all kinds of "stuff". It took quite a while of walking before I finally began to hear the splashing sounds of my feet in the water and the surf as spilled over the shells. The water was making that special wind-chime music that I love. I finally started hearing my feet strike the sand, and then I began focusing on my breathing trying to slow everything down.

I rolled up my wet shorts and tied up my t-shirt to feel the full warmth of the sun's rays against my belly and thighs. I walked side-by-side with sandpipers and rescued a wet-winged bee half buried in the sand with a piece of sea glass that I almost threw back because I didn't think it was quite "done". Thank goodness I kept it as it was just the right size and shape for bee-scooping. At first I thought the bee was missing a wing, but after a while in the dry sun and sand, she began to fly again in short little bursts. Resilient.

I sat on a rock for a while and prayed rambling prayers of hope. I photographed Leatherback sea turtle nests and picked up plastic trash from the wrack line that they might mistake for jellyfish if it washed back into the ocean. A piece of swallowed plastic bag can cause an excruciatingly painful, slow death for a sea turtle. I reflected that it's we careless humans who are the real trash on the beach and then I started getting grumpy and judgmental again, and so I started walking once more.

On the way back, I passed the rainbow colored condos where I know that someday I am destined to live. I have known that since the first day I saw them many years ago. I just haven't decided which color yet I will pick - coral, blue, or green. Life is full of so many choices.

And as always there were my flip flops waiting for me right where I'd left them. I always smile when I see them. There is a beach code of trust here in Florida. Never pick up two flip flops placed together. One flip flop on the beach near the water is likely trash, but two flip flops near the dunes or the walkovers or the sidewalks are off-limits. Some beach comber or surfer or walker has placed them there on purpose, and it is very bad karma to remove them.

When we first moved here, we did not know about this code, and my husband picked up a pair of black sandals lying out by the street late one evening with no cars in sight. They were just his size. We thought it was great luck at the time, but I truly believe now that those flops need to go right back to where we found them. I think we need to include a note tied to them that says "Sorry, beach friend, but we just didn't know the code. We thought these were meant for us, but now we understand we were wrong. Thanks for lending us your shoes for the last seven years. They have carried us a lot of places. Peace for your Path."

Or something like that...