What you see as you look at the picture is a view from the
second floor of a house in Sea Isle City, NJ.
It was taken in full sun. The
snap does not look toward the ocean but in the opposite direction toward the
bay. Looking out over the brackish water to the west you see the posts and
other artifacts humankind has abandoned in the marsh. You also can see the mainland. The lower
third of the image is of the railing of the elevated porch from which it was
taken. The railing is a beautiful
rainbow of greens, pinks, yellows and a couple of other shades I don’t remember
at the moment. These are beach colors, aqua
green and flamingo pink but dusty and lightly faded. The view from that particular
spot is my heaven.
Sounds odd doesn’t it, a sliver of a second story porch with
just enough room for a few chairs, a birdfeeder and a tabletop fountain facing
north as nirvana. Who would think of
their beautiful reward as sideways vista of a salt marsh? How could that be anyone’s heaven? Well it isn’t anyone’s heaven, it is my
heaven.
This space was created by the love of two very special
people, people who have been my friends (and one of them a relative for a short
while) for more than 2/3rds of the life I have lived so far. Partly these people, with their sense of
balance in life, in time and in nature, make that particular view my heaven. Partly the marsh to the left and the ocean to
the right make this my heaven.
The unending life force of the sea meets the cauldron of
life on land, the salt marsh. Partly, this
is heaven because of the spirit of joyful life that is found at a seaside
resort like this during the hot days of August. Heaven, my heaven. I don’t know if sitting in a chair listening
to the gulls call and feeling a sea breeze is your heaven but I am okay with
any differences we may have on this point.
Often in these current days, which I find very dark and
troubling, I go to that deck in my mind and just watch the circling
seagulls. I shut my eyes and shut down
this world of spiritual pain. I listen internally to the sound track of a life
time. Words of my parents flow by just
as readily as do the tunes of Jackson Browne and Joni Mitchell. I find myself rereading mentally the pages of
books that have impacted me. I dive deep
into the constructs I have brought into my heart and mind over the years.
I think I can tell you why the current situation hurts so
much. The control of our lives is held
in the hands of men mostly whose values are totally opposite of what I have
believed, worked for and voted for all my life. The only choice I have when I
leave the reverie is to live and act and speak according to the values I have always
clung to not worry about what the rest of my fellow citizens do.
Yeah if I am on that deck I am mentally younger and
fitter. If I am on that deck I am surrounded
by love. If I am on that deck I might
even be high. Haven’t done that in 25
years but when it becomes legal, and it will become legal fuck you Jeff
Sessions and your frightened old white man ways, I might partake again. When I am on that deck I am at peace, quiet,
gentle peace.
There is a poet I urge everyone to read. His name is W.S. Merwin. His poetry comes at you head on and then
sideways. When I am mentally taking
refuge on that seaside second floor deck I have a copy of Moon Before Morning
next to me on the table. I have a large
assed Wawa coffee with lots of cream. A
cigarette is burning in the ashtray (remember this is a mental moment) and I am
reading aloud to whoever will listen the following poem entitled Ancient World.
Orange sunset
In the deep shell of summer
A long silence reaching across the
dry pasture
In the distance a dog barks
At the sound of a door closing
And at once I am older
Well said. I worry less about my 72 year old self, in these increasingly tremulous times, than I do about my children, and, even moreso, THEIR children. I find I have no solutions to offer. And isnt that what parents and grandparents are supposed to provide???
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