Posts Tagged ‘sand’

Sand Beach

June 13, 2018

(With appreciation of Matthew Arnold’s poem, Dover Beach)

The Ocean is strong  today.

The waves roll in; the sun is bright

upon the Pacific. In this island surf the light

sparkles and tumbles; the rocky shores stand,

steadfast and vast, under a friendly sun.

Let’s do the beach; this afternoon’s energy is vigorous.

But hey! from this long splash of spray,

where sea meets the sun-kiss’d land—

Sand1

Listen! we hear the pounding roar

of sand grains which the waves draw back, and fling,

forever, upon this high strand.

Beginning and ceasing, and then beginning again,

with a forceful rhythm it perseveres, to roll

The eternal resonance of wonder in.

Dear Matthew, back in the day,

heard this on the North Sea, and it brought

into his mind the ponderous ebb and flow

of our melancholy brood; we

hear it still the same; yet with that lamenting we discern

a reverberating of relentless purpose

in this pounding Pacific shore.

Oh sea of faith!

Persistent and unrelenting, all ‘round our earth’s shore—

you flap forever like folds of a bright banner unfurled.

Although I also feel

that ancient melancholy, the long, withdrawing roar,

retreating, in the breath

of the evening wind, laden with our roiling refugees

and the uncared-for masses of the world.

Oh, people, let us be true

To one another! For the world, which seems

to boil before us like a pot of strife—

so disjointed, so distraught, so stubbornly the same,

really has somewhere some joy, love, and even flashes of benevolence,

some certainty— here and there a little peace— even some easing of the pain,

while we here on this fragg’ed globe

get swept with fake news and tweeting dweebs who incite us,

as ill-informed combatants clash with their devices.

Glass Chimera

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Life is grand on the strand

September 22, 2015

As I wander lonely on the strand

in sun and sky and surf and sand

I find a place I had not planned

to encounter in this island land.

RockSand

 

Now when we encounter something unplanned

which then becomes the matter at hand

and then it starts to make adverse demand

upon our life so carefully planned,

TreeCrag

 

surely then we must renew our plan,

so we won’t fall and be buried in the sand

and maybe fail again and again.

That’s just the way it is:

SunsetSea

 ain’t life grand?

 

Glass half-Full

Crawling upon the sands of Time

July 10, 2014

 

If I had a pair of ragged claws

scuttling through surf-tossed sands,

I’d crawl up on this shellshorn beach.

I’d raise my thorny head

to see what I could see

to survey this continental conglomerate

that rises before me

like something big and fixed in time.

Whatever this is,

it is not akin to my ocean, no,

not in constant motion,

but something solid is it

something accumulated in time

something sedimented

into one big thing:

conglbchrck

If I could drag me crusty self

upon that stony shore

I would find me windblown

wood grown structure there to rest

beneath its boney  covering crest

and call meself at home.

bchtreeU

But wait! What’s this?

A thorny beast arrests me quest!

This spiny splort to thwart my sport!

Who goes there?

blowfsh2

Declare yourself if ye be man or beast!

Shucks. ‘T’was what I wanted least,

to share me beach with such a quilly guy,

to see me thorny self within his eye.

Pshaw! to put it politely,

‘though I could use another word,

one that you have prob’ly heard.

Glass Chimera

 

The Interface of Light and Matter

June 29, 2014

After 44 years later of pondering this and living the wonderful life God hath provided, I prefer the Torahic approach to conceiving what God is like. Torah, or Genesis, says God made Man in His own image.  God was expressing himself when created all things, including humans. If we see human characteristics in his handiwork, it’s because God intended for us to see that he was expressing himself through creation, just like we do.

God is an artist, like me.

Those artistic tendencies that he developed within me are what enable me to appreciate the Artist that He is.

Here is an example: 

WavArt2u

Nice work, n’est ce pa? I like this better than, say, Mondrian, Pollock or Warhol. And it’s almost as interesting as Wyeth or Monet.

WavArt6u

Here’s another, with a little more background, like DaVinci adding background perspective to Mona’s portrait, which changed art forever:

Sometimes, God takes his brush and turns it downward with a little perpendicular slash, like Van Gogh:

WavArt5

Other times, God uses his electromagnetic energy to separate Light from Dark, like he did in the Beginning:

WavLght

Every now and then, we see a microcosmic image that resembles a larger microcosm. Here’s one that reminds me of an airplane view I got once, over Utah, or maybe it was Nevada:

WvMicCosm

Another good thing about the Original Artist: He likes to use his critters to help make the work interesting. Here’s one where the sand critters do their thing:

Sandcrittrs

Pretty interesting, n’est ce pas?

That’s enough for today’s gallery. Time for dinner. I think Pat’s throwing a salad together with celery or broccoli, maybe some parsley.

WvPlnts

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But listen! What Victorious call rings loudly from yon beach bar? See the “V” in the pic above? Here in Tamarindo, Costa Rica, it suddenly has a new meaning:

Viva Costa Rica! Costa Rica just defeated Greece in World Cup Soccer! This has never happened before!

Glass Chimera

The Defender of Life

June 28, 2014

 

‘Z’ounds!

What’s this!

What bellicose shell?

What Defender of the Molluskan realm?

What Challenger from Sands and Seas?

What El Toro wielding horns to gore yon matador?bellcoseSh3What defensive reflex hath raised such pointy provocation?

What genetic arsenal from the clammy Deep hath constructed such antlerian Defense?

Why, the Defender of Life Itself, the Great I Am, the One Who IS–

The One who wrote the Code.

He defends his own!

Stand aside, all ye challengers of the Faith!

 

Glass Chimera

A Strand of Providence

June 27, 2014

One of my favorite things to do in this life is visiting the sea strand. The beach. While growing up in Louisiana and Mississippi, our family had many excursions with fond memories to the Gulf Coast at Mississippi and Florida.

After graduation from LSU in 1973, I took a job in Florida and moved to St. Petersburg.

In my year-and-a half stay there I spent many days and hours at the beach, becoming intimately familiar with that setting–that expression of nature’s wonders.

Through many hours of studying the interaction of tidal water and surf-sand, I noticed a few things about the cycles of our life existence.

In the forty years since that Florida time I have visited many beaches throughout the world, from Calabash to Rockaway to Dover and Calais, from Hawaii to China, from Tel Aviv to Cayman to California and Carolina. I love experiencing beaches. Doesn’t everyone?

Today is our first morning in Costa Rica. We got into Liberia airport, then drove to Tamarindo, on the Pacific. So of course I got up early and walked a few hundred yards to the beach. Perfect beach: wide, flat, smooth with very pacific waves, arranged in a classic half-moon arc with nearby low mountains in the distance. Clear morning, not yet hot.

As has happened on may beaches before, the first thing I notice while approaching the surf is that cycle of dark and light bands of sand at the water’s edge, where the waves roll in gently and do their artwork in the sand. My favorite beach characteristic to notice and contemplate.

CostaWvCy

I consider these waves, their perpetual rearrangement of the sand grains, and it takes me back to the time when I first began to notice this universal cycle, back in St. Petersburg. A meditation on nature to revisit. I think I’ll linger for awhile.

Being a civilized animal, I prefer to sit in a chair while thinking. So I go back to the condo and get one.

A few minutes later I am sitting in the chair at the water’s edge, considering the ocean, the sand, the wave motions and their visual record of rearranging dark and light bands of sand, the cycles they indicate or perhaps represent, the universe, God, and ignorant armies clashing by night and Dover Beach and all that stuff.

I think the first level of such thought/meditation is analytical. Is that natural to me as a man, or is it an acquired habit? just something I was taught to do in school? I don’t know. Put that layer of analysis back in a file somewhere in my head and wait for the deeper, experiential level. I am looking at the Pacific beach, which is right in front of me now.

Wait a minute. What about all the stuff of my life that came before?

Now I am a Christian, have been since 1979, or maybe even before that when I was raised Catholic.  So, to base my analyses and judgements about life, its consequences, priorities and outcomes, etc on an ancient Revelation, the Bible, the church–what is that? How does that affect any objective analysis I may attempt? Well, sure it does.

Hey, It’s what I am. I was born into a specific place and time, with all the cultural baggage thereof.But let’s not get too analytical. By grounding my judgements on my own experience as well as ancient Revelation that was handed down to me through the ages, I am utilizing the best of both worlds– the experience of those prophets of old, primarily Jesus himself, as well as my own experience.

Now, back to the here and now. Over here in the sand, dark bands are alternating with light. There is some kind of cycle going on here, some kind of process. Been going on a long time, seems to be universal. Seeing that cycle of sand bands with my eyes is objective. Relating them to other life cycles is subjective. Can I do otherwise? No matter what theses, hypotheses, or conclusions I come to, I am a subjective man, and I will make use, in this life, of both the objective truth that is really out there, the cumulative wisdom of other men/women, and my subjective experience and evaluation of it. I’m going for the best of them all. Do I have any other choice? My options are limited.

To be human means to understand that our options are limited, so we would do well to make the best of them. Rather than dwelling on what we don’t understand, consider and act upon what we do find to be true and workable.

By the way, and I didn’t tell you this before. Yesterday, I experienced the worst pain I have ever had in my life. This was no small thing for me, although in the big picture it is insignificant. It’s over now. That’s the main thing. But the pain experience has produced an aftermath.

How did this pain happen? I had had a bout with walking pneumonia or something like it before we left North Carolina. My head was all stopped up with mucous or sinus fluid or whatever that stuff is that’s stuck in your head when you’ve got a cold. While were in the plane descending to Costa Rica, I had the most terrible half-hour of pain in my life, because I had not done the cold medications effectively.

Now this is getting pretty dam subjective, talking about pain and my health condition, like the 62-year-old-geezer that I have become. I hate it, don’t want to go that route. I’m not stuck in the wheelchair at the nursing home yet. So fuhgedaboudit.

But I do have to say something about all that physical health report stuff, because there is a lesson in it.

So I’m sitting here on the strand with my old thoughts about the universality of the surf and sand, and my right ear is still clogged with that stuff from yesterday’s struggle against walking pneumonia. I’ve been trying for days now to get rid of that mucous.

I tilt my head to the right. Something–a liquid–shifts inside my head, and suddenly I can hear more clearly.

Thanks be to God!

Maybe you think that crediting God for such deliverance from pain is a naive assumption. Who cares? It’s my life, my ear, pain. I will deal with it. I am not only going to thank God for this little relief that came in the tilting of a head,in the blinking of an eye, but I am going to use my God-given hands to begin to solve the problem.

What will happen if I gently put my  little finger in my ear and manipulate that ear canal ever-so-slightly while my head is tilted? Could such intervention, perhaps, release some of the fluid from the ear and thus alleviate some pain? I’ll try it.

I do it.

It works! Clogged ear now clearer than it was.

Praise be to God. Thank you Jesus!

Pretty subjective response, I know–this burst of grateful praise,  but I’ll gratefully accept the little strand of divine deliverance, even though I was the one who administered it.

Now, as for conclusions and evaluations about this  insignificant event while contemplating sand, waves and the universe:

The cycle of pain and absence of pain–it comes; it goes. When the pain comes, it’s hell on earth, but when it’s gone–Thank you, God. A man’s gotta roll with the tide.  I’ll take it. Not bad for a Friday morning.

CostaWvSurf

Glass half-Full

shifting on the sands of rhyme

March 1, 2014

Here’s a line in the sand:

surf breaking there,  here shifting strand.

Out there swells planetary ocean;

it rolls in with universal motion.

This continent  begins here, between my toes

with little grains that stretch to grandiose shows:

mountains untamed beyond cultivated grass,

miniscule creatures in habitats vast.

 

Who formed this strand I think I know;

It wasn’t Michelangelo. No,

it wasn’t Newton or Sagan or Copernicus.

‘Though they played their part to show us

the dynamics of this present shifting locus,

it’s no result of human focus.

Nor do our carbon-laden spewings

amount to any significant doings.

 

Our refuse is but momentary trash

sliding up on  shores of civilizations past;

it comes, it goes, but no one knows

what bosons do beneath atomic shows.

If we think it’s in our power

to determine planet emissions of any given hour,

then I’ve got some beachfront land to sell you

in Arizona; here, let me tell you.

 

CR, with new novel, Smoke, soon

Kai kai Kauai

July 10, 2013

Surfy shimmer late afternoon slant light

hath revealed glimmering

truth that midday overlooked,

as each wave topples in from aquamarine bliss

blasting gold and magic disappearish foam upon the beach.

Silvery rumpled water plane retreats back to sea

leaving sheen that descends into coarse brownsand,

mottled with micro rivulets crisscrossing intersecting

as multiple mini-sandstorms settle from their infinite mini-maelstroms

upon this shore,

racing, streaking wavelets o’er the smoothness of ancient speckled sands

where sandstonish texture takes over as crystalish water is disappearing

constantly and forever

and ever and amen

according to shapeshifting strand line as erratic as

a dowjones database

Jackie Paper will sail no more on this particular

day

but the sun sets down its golden splashes same as

it always has since

God only knows when.

 

Glass half-Full