Thursday, September 30, 2010

Broken Glass

In September the whales come.

 It happens without fanfare.

Suddenly, one day you realise that they are there.

Just beneath the surface, they wait like a secret and fill the bay. More then a dozen at a time. So that a walk or drive is punctuated with their discovery. All along the roadside, the wonder of the wild in the everyday. Just here. Beside the road.

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Even Baxter is inspired by their presence, racing up and down the beach, feeling the joy of the whale watchers who congregate for a closer encounter.
 Mr Nielson better known as Sid, and I are always moved by this visitation.

On a still, spring day, with the sea a sheet of glass, they are almost unbearably beautiful. It is in these moments of unbearable beauty that you have a real sense of 'broken glass'.

Jewish bridegrooms shatter glass, with the stamp of their 'just married' wedding shoe. Even as we celebrate, we are commanded to remember the destruction of the temple, and the pain of a 'broken world'.

And so as Mr Nielson and I vibrate with gratitude on a spring day beside the ocean, we are sad for those who will never know the quiet joy of our being there together.

For anyone who is hurting now.

 As the whales play

xxx elle

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