In which I tarry on the edge of the world

I have come to Pigeon Point LIghthouse for purposes of healing.  A fellow refuge plays the piano in the common room.  A nervous man paces on the boardwalk outside the window.  He’s told me that he had a car accident three days ago; he identified himself as being a traveler.  I suggested that he take a seat and gaze at the ocean and watched from the kitchen window as he did for about ten minutes before leaping back to his feet.  He needs this place, but I doubt that he will receive the benefit of it.

Grey clouds hang low in the sky, out over the ocean.  This afternoon I stood watching people watch whales.  I counted five languages among those gathered.  As magnificent as I found the sight of the grey whale, more so did I find the happiness of the humans watching their play.

I will be here for only forty-eight hours, all told.  I am hoping that it will be enough.  I have responsibilities back in the midwest, but for now I shall tarry at the edge of the world, and let it work its magic on my soul.

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One thought on “In which I tarry on the edge of the world

  1. Phil Carrott

    Talk about a small piece of Heaven, Ice Plant, an old board fence, and the Ocean…..doesn’t get any better than this. Imagine sleeping under the stars listening to the slight roll of the waves……You have arrived my FRIEND…!!!!

    Reply

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