As powerful as I think the image I posted above is in conveying so much of the meditative experience of walking along this incredible beach at extreme low tide, alone but for George and the sea birds, with the fog sliding in and out, the constantly changing light of the mist obscured sun floating hither and thither to make illusions of ghosts running past and of fleeting mystic sparkling apparitions dancing in wet shining mirrors–moving, shifting, alive, but so still and quiet–it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You had to be there.
But here’s another opportunity to transport yourself down to this magical place with me and George on a Saturday morning in September.
