Two swans feed in the winter bay. Diving in tandem, moving so gracefully, then comically sending their tails to the sky. So easily paired and so at ease with the task of feeding.
Soft waves reveal a treasured glimpse of the bay floor. Shallow waters magnify the colorful display of pebbles and shells – making them appear magnificent for a moment, then back to pebble size with the next passing wave.
An empty conch shell precariously upended at bay’s edge, tipped over with each wave like a chalice offering communion back to the sea.
A graceful act, but it’s the upending of the thing that captures my attention today. Exposed, momentarily unstable, yet playful in it’s willingness to be pushed and pulled by the pulse of tide.
Much like the feeding swans, so relaxed in their search for food, with no concern for the bobbing, vulnerable nature of their airborne tails.
It’s a bit like us – diving for nourishment, coming up for air, then taking comfort for a few spare moments in the presence of another.