I recently realized that this place I have moved to on the Oregon Coast is the most nature intense place I have ever lived. I have a stream in my back yard. I can hear the ocean roar as I write. During the day the birds are outside singing away. My life is directed by the tides as to when I go to the beach and when and where I can run on the beach.
The beach here is changing constantly. There was a sandy beach but now that is gone and a rock beach showed up. Now the sandy beach has moved to another area. The stream behind the house flows into the ocean and it mouth looks differently every day especially after big waves. Huge logs on the beach have been moved like tooth picks by the power of the ocean. I can find agates as I walk the beach and bring them home and there is more the next day. There is constant change going on around me. I have learned that nothing stays the same. Can I be as fluid as nature?
Standing at the beach naturally takes me inward to a place of peace and alignment with myself and the world around me. I run the trails nearby aware of the recent signs of elk and bear. The night sky is so bold it gives my house a Milky Way address. The log trucks roll through here loaded all day long and I feel for the once standing trees. The recent rain turned everything green in a few hours. The sun is still available but soon it will be buried under a blanket of gray.
The darkness leaves no doubt when night has arrived. The sunsets are a clear transition towards shifting to the energy of darkness. The wind when it comes up turns the waves into monsters and in minutes a warm day can turn very chilly. There are no streetlights here. There nearest town is about 7 miles away. If I am quiet all I hear is nature at night and it is soothing at so many levels. As I wrote this first draft night I thought I saw a bat fly outside my window.
What can I learn from this intimacy with nature? I know if I am quiet I will be told the answer to that question.