A story in a photo

On the way to my weekly visit to the ocean, I finally stopped at the side of the road to snap a photo of a spot that I’d been eyeing. Each week I travel the same or similar route past this spot, to get to the best viewing for my sister and me. A location where we can hear the ocean’s roar or sometimes its gentle waves. And we people watch and are greatly entertained, sometimes shocked. Sometimes in awe by kindness.

Last week, I pulled up at the usual place, intended for short visits of appreciation. It is NOT in any way a parking lot. It is a handful of stalls, with parallel parking to pull off the road and enjoy the view. So last week while we were there, we had a real jaw-dropper when a young woman flew into a stall, bumper to bumper with the person in front of her. She hops out of her car, opens her trunk, and takes out a beach chair, while a second car pulls up, next to her. She opens their trunk, throws her chair in, hops in the front seat, and takes off. I reiterate this is not a parking lot. People fascinate me. They are a mystery. All I could think was, “Wow! Look at that.” And my sister just looked at me.

But back to the photo opp that caught my attention, I had been passing this break in the dunes with a short path leading toward the water, every week. It literally called to me. I never saw anyone on it.

There was a boardwalk…of sorts, that faded into the sand a short way in, making the journey toward the water more challenging. It’s private so I didn’t walk it myself, but I imagined, to have the certainty of the boardwalk and then not have it. The high walls of the dunes, though adorned with cottage roses(?) in places, created something of a shelter before opening to a vast open expanse of beach, closer to the water. I took a photo from my car, so as not to trespass on the private path, and off I went. But the image stuck with me and made me think that in some way, it was symbolic of the life of a writer. Especially when engaging in longer work that can go on for years. And even I guess shorter work like when compiling poetry.

There is a certain safety that is present when writing a book. A certainty that all is in your hands. Until it’s not. I mean, it’s all between you and your story, or you and your poetry. It’s a very personal thing. Until you publish it, and it feels a little like the safety of the dunes and the surefootedness of the boardwalk come to an end.  And a journey of shifting sands begins, but over there in the distance is the magnificence of the ocean and all its possibilities. So full of life and opportunity. And it's still very personal.

And so it is with writing. Whether I’m writing a poem, a blog post, or a book, the journey is pretty similar. The time frame changes of course, but the depth of meaning is always with you. And it’s the creative process that challenges, nurtures, and inspires a writing life. I signed some books for someone recently, and after writing my name, and drawing a little heart underneath, I wrote, “Enjoy the journey.” I hope you are enjoying yours. I know I’m enjoying mine. Until next time…be well. Take a look at Synchronicity's trailer below...

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