July 9, 2008
The morning silence is intoxicating. The glassy surface of the broad bay at Bedwell Harbour is dotted with an assortment of ships at rest. No sounds. Nothing moving save for the gentle rocking of vessels on the incoming tide. Reflections are soft in the dim light. Colors are muted and pastel-like, deep greens and smoky gray. No living thing makes a sound, yet the harbour itself seems alive as a whole being, in a deep slumber. The surrounding steep forested hills form an undulating soft silhouetted contour, the torso of a sleeping giant. Rocky outcroppings reach into the water as long arms behind which ships may take refuge for the night. Staring out from the cockpit I imagine the broadest hill moving up and down with the deep breaths, a chest lifting and falling slightly taking in the cool air. My mind shifts to the dregs of coffee remaining in my morning cup. I stare at the fine grounds and gently swirl them around reminding myself that this was a well known commercial brand I have been consuming each morning for many years. Remarkable how the absence of distractions allows heightened sensitivity to immediate surroundings. Throw down a tall mug of strong java, unleash your imagination and see where it goes. I look back up at he hills and scan the water and hazy mist drifting among the white hulls. Caaawww! A large crow breaks the spell of silence. My caffeinated heart takes a flight-or-fight squeeze, eyes dilate arms tense. Damn that crow! Caaaww! Another crow replies. Screeeak, skreeak! A couple of gulls scream in response not to let the day get out of balance. Ahh well, the familiar beings begin to establish their presence. So begins another day asea.