Winter Sea

It does go a bit against instinct to drive to the coast in January. However, we were restless, it was cold, and we felt that there might be some beautiful scenery--and there was. It was more than we could have expected. The clouds, which were not in the sky over our home, made a remarkable backdrop. 

Truth—I was initially disappointed about the clouds. In my impulse to go to the coast was the idea of deep blue sea and sky, crystalline and sharp. But, as you can see, that is not what awaited us.

Thank goodness, because it was the clouds, disrupting a perfect, blue sky, that made all the best difference, just as learning to embrace imperfection can bring satisfying peace.

Giving up ideas of perfection can open you to more texture, more diversity, more gratitude than you ever realized was possible. I used to only want to take pictures of vast landscapes when the sky was clear. I am not sure what drove me to limit myself that way. Back then, there was nothing better to me than a perfectly, pure, blue sky. The first time I realized how simplistic this thinking was, occurred on a kayaking trip to Stonington. I wrote about this earlier. That day, as on this day, it was the clouds that provided all the wonder.

Don’t you find this happens in your lives? The moments that develop unexpectedly, against all our prejudices, are the precious ones. Clouds, both metaphoric and literal, are becoming my friends. They provide depth to the character within whatever or whomever they present themselves.

As I have tried to accept and have compassion for my own limitations and imperfections, the clouds that can sometimes hover and settle over me, I have felt a sense of ease. This restless, reactive Maineiac heart of mine is softening and opening to a loving contentment and appreciation for things as they most often are—ragged and rough-edged, filled with multiple dimensions and imperfection.