Letting go

I let Waterhorse go to the sea (last week), in a solitary reunion with its environment. It could have been a place of great importance. A great ship landing...an explorer's visit...or even a place of devastation. Instead I chose the spot where the waste water spills into the cove. A calm space where fattened baby sea gulls drift in the shelter of artificial constructs. The launch had none of the grace that I envisioned, that is until the sea claimed it again. The launch was simply a crash of dry seaweed upon the water's surface. Nothing more than a swift drop. The sea first pushed it in before slowly unraveling its woven form, reshaping it into ribbons that again took on life. The ribbons of kelp were now bleached from the sun, and the salt now brought to its surface.

In Hawai'i they say if a lei is returned, so will you-so I am not sure what to make of the drastic movement that pushed the piece under the false stone that covered the waste water pipe until it was slowly turned and unraveled before being sucked out to sea in dramatic swirls of life intermixed with steel grey and punctuated with waste. The young gulls continued to test their wings against incoming gusts of wind. Gradually the wind threw rain like thorns in my side. I walked in then, thinking my small ceremony complete. Walking the trail of cod back one last time to the shelter of home.

Last day in the Cove

Its been too long since my last entry. I have been working and sorting through the options of what will come next. I keep trying to move on to something new, but the peace that comes from the nesting is hard to deny. I needed a nest more than anything, I guess. A place to bake bread for kind strangers, and walk the rocks until I could do it blindfolded. It is the classic travellers battle, being torn between staying or going. I write this after saying farewell to my ten year old side kick who reminded me of the joys of bonfires and joy rides on the back of a minibike. Using my camera to film rocks in the creek and talk about horses and dogs, and new friends at school. He tried so hard to hold back the tears, I didn't try so hard. Maybe I am tired of always keeping it together. It is hard to uproot now after so many months in this small community. The sea is again alive with fishermen just like the days of the past, they now know me by name.

My videos caught the illusive schools of jellyfish brought in by my last wish made upon the sea. It was a good bittersweet ending to this time in my new life. One wish granted as an otherwise empty cove that filled with thousands of jellies in one sweeping wave, then as soon as my wish was granted, it ended just as quickly. I turned my head to watch them wash away into the greater sea, to continue their own journey. I too have to drift away and once again live through memory.

So onwards through Canada. Onwards through the fog...