King Tides

King Tides at Strawberry Hill + Big Log – December 2012

This has been a heck of a weekend for weather drama. Meteors my first night and the sound the wind trying to pull the cabin off the hill, with sea foam flying outside my windows as though it was snow! All the while seals and seabirds bob along in storm-tossed waves as if this wasn’t anything big.

CK wouldn’t enjoy being here, exposed and alone out on this bluff as I am. This tiny cabin is literally buffeted on all sides by powerful wind (gusting at up to 70 miles-per-hour) and the waves are truly enormous. She finds these sounds of water and weather unnerving, but for some reason they comfort me. I’ve been cultivating a mental image of the sea foam being blown through the air as a reminder that my little collection of anxiety and fear is so small, that wind like this just blows it all right through me.

After the terrible headache yesterday, I woke up feeling rested and clear. I went out to try and find treasure in the low, morning tide. I’ve come to the conclusion that winter is not agate-hunting weather as I only found one in my time out in the morning. I did find several interesting rocks and a few very interesting pieces of driftwood. I came back, ate breakfast, warmed up and went out again to watch the enormous waves.

I’m fascinated by the seabirds and seals out in the pounding surf, just bobbing along. I anthropomorphize them as “intrepid”, but I’m called to re-read the Genjo Koan and find them instead,in their element.

Played with ATCs today and decided that I’d stay in. There’s Christmas celebrations happening in the lighthouse keeper’s cabin at Heceta Head, but the wind makes driving a challenge and I’d rather stay safely, warmly inside even if it sounds like I’ll be blown right off the bluff!

Today has even inspired  a bit of poetry. Of course, within minutes of writing it I was telling myself it was too pretentious to be shared. Maybe so, but here it is regardless:

King Tides

They name them
King Tides,
Being higher
And stronger than
The usual waves
Blown by the
Fierce winds
Of December.

Some might say
God is in those waves.
Proof of a Masculine deity
Pounding the shoreline.

Others will say
There is nothing more
Than mundane science
In the shifting of water
As dictated by a rock in space.

Some see the tides
Called by the Moon
As the sure evidence
Of a Divine Feminine.

None of these arguments
Matter to the waves
Or the rocks they crash into.

No conversation changes
The way the wind catches
The top of each crest or
Is considered by the intrepid
Sea birds floating amidst
The relentless movement
Of the sea toward the shore.

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Jomon
    Dec 31, 2012 @ 15:07:48

    Hey Konin,

    I LOVE this poem! I am happy to see you resting and writing. And I wish you a very happy new year!

    ~Jomon

    Reply

    • sherri
      Dec 31, 2012 @ 15:11:49

      Hah! Thank you for the does of reality outside of my brain… which is to say… my Inner Critic has been worrying since posting at how that poem sounded. Seemed a little pretentious ;)

      Reply

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