"Days In The Life Of An Island..."

First light upon my tent, sensed even before my eyes were open, now an awareness too, of the very soft awakening sounds of this small coastal island...

My island these last few days it seems, not another soul to be seen, no human marks upon the beach, out among the many tracks of other sentient ones who have wandered past mostly in the night. The tides have come and gone, and begin their ebb and flow yet again. I can hear their gentle caress upon both sand and rock, and with the shifting of driftwood in the water adding to those melodies. It rained a lot last night too, as darker clouds passed by the sense of a moon that was surely up there. I have recorded many musings in my journals in the moons quiet company...

The eternally comforting sound of rain upon the sand, falling among old growth trees, and pattering for attention on my tent, is something I will never cease enjoying...

I can close my eyes and hear now too the many voices in the breezes, the conversations of the winds. Seeking of solitude is one reason I am here. That and following the tides during this seasons' changes, looking for tracks of some elusive ones on the beaches, being able to circumnavigate small islands like these, and that essential, necessary time for daydreaming and the practice of gazing upon waves. Of course, I spend endless moments picking up countless small cobblestones, and examining them for the stories they have on their faces and hidden within them too...

I say 'days in the life' of this island, but those are my own terms, as such words do not really apply here. Time is a concept of ours, and these islands have their own life, become alive in so many other ways - light and dark, the slow growth of old growth, seasons upon seasons, eternities of rock and wind and rain, and the spirits too of everything that has breathed the sea air on this special place on a corner of a chart...

I make simple meals, while map reading, and pondering important things like the changing colors of the ocean, why the wind touches everything from so many directions, what birds make those unusual kind of songs, how beautiful these small rocks are that I've gathered up to later pass forward, and why it is that we always wonderfully lose a sense of self and time and other worldly concerns among such special wild places...

I never seem to sleep as well as I do here, near the waters, with the waves as my metronome. For one whose heath issues forever complicate my rest, this is truly another wild place gift I am so very much grateful for. Sunrise becomes sunset, the rise of a crescent moon becomes first light, and it seems I haven't moved at all. Simply snoozing, resting, gazing, gathering, pondering, eating, musing, wandering, paddling, tracking, listening, reading, and all other such adventure activities that blend in as I live out some days shared with this so friendly small island...

DSD