We walked on a wide white beach today in the late afternoon light. The little dog ran here and there through the machair in search of rabbits. She has never caught one. I don’t think she really wants to. It’s the chase she loves, the journey.
Because of the recent storms, the kelp is high, almost on the machair, settled in loops as it was pushed in by the waves. It looks like curly hair. In one curl, lay a dead seal. I knew it before I found it, as the hooded crows and a bird of prey I couldn’t recognise in the shout of blinding sunlight, lifted into the sky as we came near.
Something dead there, I thought.
And there was, its skin blistered pink, at its final resting place. Food, now, for a hungry world.
We found driftwood and bits of flotsam and jetsam, and I love that around the ocean, there are so many wonderful words. Not one of them boring.
I saw bladder-wrack and bubble-wrap and plastic bottles and lids and bits of toy, a piece of Lego and another thing, an emergency water bottle.
Whose boat, I thought, and what journey and where did you come from, or go to?
I remember someone found a soft toy rabbit in the harbour car park. Soaked in the rain, we dried her and placed her for all to see with a sign asking…….Am I yours?
Nobody claimed her, so now, she is mine, with her raggedy ear and her eyes wide with looking.
I call her Anouk.
It takes grace to allow ourselves to be moved from one state to another. One place to another. We may not choose it, but if we can bring our whole self with us, without looking at what we left behind, with just our wide-looking eyes hungry for right now, right here, we can make a smile appear in the most unlikely faces.