Along the Marginal Way, the breeze is biting but the sun is warm. We walk along this well-traversed stretch of shoreline, pausing to admire the rocky coastline, waiting to absorb the beauty of the day. A couple of seagulls fly overhead, while other water birds float in the distance. On the sea, shards of sunlight bounce off the tips of waves – the effect is of some sparkling blanket, undulating in the darkest of blues.
There is a sense of grounding whenever I find myself on the crux of land and ocean, and upon planting my feet and feeling the power of the place, I look up into the sky and beam at the soaring of the gulls.
In the midst of our annual fall trip here, our Marginal Way walk, en route to lunch in Perkins Cove, is a calm highlight in a long weekend of calming moments. If you stand there for a while, listening to the waves lull with their lullaby-like dirge, you will feel the spell the sea casts on all who pause to hear it. It’s a spell that the land echoes, with its rocky soil that affords only the hardiest of roses a foothold to unfurl their rugged beauty. Even at this late stage of the season, a few Rosa rugosa blooms manage to perfume the salty air.
By the time we round the juniper-shaded corner to Perkins Cove, my stomach is ready for a warm bowl of chowder, and maybe a fish fry. The cove is quiet today, the water relatively still, mirroring the sky and begging for a haiku.
Indigo ocean
beneath playful sky hosting
non-threatening clouds.
