Some things don’t change

Some things don’t change and that’s just the way I like it. Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Beatrice, Sally and I went to the beach at Murray Corner, New Brunswick. Situated behind the iconic Irving garage in that tiny community, the ocean and it’s recharged sea air was a welcomed sight, feel, and smell. The warm sand was wonderful to the touch and so very comforting to the aches of the body and the soul and the mind.

The particular beach we visited is a small section of a larger, private, cottage shoreline that is open to those who visit the Irving and rent cottages in the area. Walking it yielded beach glass and pottery under Bea’s sharp eyes as well as countless whitened lobster claws and tiny hermit crab skeletons dried out on the shore.

If doesn’t matter how old we get or how removed we may be from this environment due to stress and strain. When we get to the beach we look for treasure and the collecting begins. It is one of our go to places time and again and although Pat’s physical presence is gone from us, his spiritual presence was surely there yesterday in the best way possible: no tears, no sadness, just wind, sea and salt-filled air with the best mix of calm and nostalgia.

What a reprieve from fear and the confining comforts of isolation, the guilt over not doing enough schooling, or just not getting things done.

Now, this morning, is a new day, with a cleansed heart. So when I looked down at the menagerie of skeletal crabs, sand, and lobster remains on the new kitchen hutch, I had to smile and breath deeply at it’s sweet familiarity.

This is a day to get things done. Shower, mark assignments, finish a tiny hooking project for a tiny friend and her feathery companions. It’s a day to make connections or maybe to engage in disconnect.

In just over a month’s time we will be back at Murray for a two week spread in what looks to be a tiny, shabby-chic cottage very near the beach. I look forward to morning walks and runs and the chance to experience rural life again for a little while.

And I cannot wait to collect more treasures with you, Bea.

Xoxo,

Melissa