Reuniting with an Old Friend

I set out with my friends and a birding acquaintance of theirs to northeastern Massachusetts, so that we might get a glimpse of the reported rarities and, for us, being from a land-locked part of the state, the equally obscure coastal birds.  We witnessed some beautiful birds, including the west-coast Townsend’s warbler, a lost Cassin’s kingbird, which should be in Mexico right now, an elegant great blue heron, and the strange-looking surf and white-winged scoters.  The hotspot for observing the coastal birds on our trip was the Park River National Wildlife Refuge on Plum Island, for which we bundled up to keep the chill of the frigid sea wind at bay. 

I strolled along the boardwalk, whose construction seemed to match that of the steady rise and fall of the sand dunes over which it was built.  As I neared the end of the boardwalk, I kept pausing to stand on my tip-toes and peer over the last row of sand dunes in anxious anticipation of the sight of the vast, blue ocean.  Finally, I saw it, but only a slight glimpse.  My heart skipped a beat; I felt like a kid in a candy store, exhilarated over what was at last within my grasp.  In between my last few peeps over the dunes, I jogged to the end of the boardwalk, past the birders on the landing, and down the sand-covered stairs.  I could barely contain my excitement with a broad smile stretched from ear to ear, as I stumbled through the shifting sand. 

As I approached the compacted, ocean swept stretch of the beach, I slowed my pace and heartily greeted my long-lost friend.  I stood as close as I dared to the incoming surf, inhaling that brisk, salty air and allowing the power of the wind and waves to reinvigorate my soul.  I fancied the waves instigating a chase, as they crashed into the shore and the bubbling, white foam glided up the beach towards my feet.  Instead of permitting such an attack, I crouched down just out of reach, and extended my arm to gently caress my friend, letting it know that I’m here, that I care, that it’s been missed.

With no end in sight over the horizon, the great, expansive ocean always serves as a reminder to me how insignificant myself and humanity, in general, are, and how mysterious life can be, full of secrets and unknowns.  Yet, there is a beauty in it that extends to humanity and to life itself, which trumps the negative that we might find in them.  It opens our eyes to the endless possibilities and the wonder of uncertainty; it humbles us.  I find the ocean to be inspiring and revitalizing, seeming to change who I am and how I reflect upon this life.  And so, once again, I long to be reunited with that friend, which has so dramatically affected me and changed my frame of mind, my outlook on life.