It was a day of rest. A day to savour time by the fire. Chatting. Reading. Playing crib. (I won’t mention the fact C.C. skunked me! Cad! 🙂 ) And, a day to appreciate the power of nature and the benefits of electricity.
It was at 2pm the lights flickered and then went out. Completely. For almost 3 hours, a large swathe of Vancouver Island was without power. Storm. Power surges. Faulty lines. Not sure what the problem was but it was rather exciting for a while with just the fire and candles to add light in the storm.
Inside, at The Lodge at Middle Beach, we were warm and cozy. Outside the winds howled. The surf surged and trees danced in the storm.
By 5pm the power began to reappear. On. Off. Until after about 10 attempts, it stayed on.
I had taken a walk on the beach earlier. The wind blew fiercely. The waves roared and the tide crashed against the shoreline. Within fifteen minutes, the path I’d taken along the beach was awash and I had to find the high tide trail back. It was wild and beautiful and intoxicating.
When I returned, my pants were soaked but my upper body was dry as I had worn one of the bright yellow slickers the Lodge provides.
I felt exhilarated. Revived by the wind and sea and salt air.
This morning, the storm has died down. The skies are a misty grey, white flecks dotted with blue struggle to break through. Rain still falls. Soft and gentle, not the skin prickling sensations of yesterday.
The power is on.
We had a delicious dinner last night in The Great Room at Longbeach Lodge. Their generator had kept the kitchen running, albeit at limited capacity, throughout the afternoon and by 8pm when we arrived, everything was back on. We chatted and listened to the waves and savoured the delectable food and toasted our ‘togetherness’.
And my heart expanded, my breath deepened and my thinking mind drifted effortlessly into silence.
Inside me, I feel the ebb and flow of the waves pulling me into stillness. I feel myself slowing down, once again becoming attuned to my heartbeat, the blood flowing through my veins, the feeling of my bones grounded in space and time, connected to the ‘everythingness’ that is all around.
I breathe. In. Out.
I feel my breath move throughout my body. Energizing. Life-giving. Connected.
I feel my breath move down, down, down into my legs. Into my feet. Tingling against my soles. I feel it move through me into the ground beneath me. And I say a silent prayer of gratitude.
My body is present. I am aware. Alive. Awed.
Outside the wind continues to howl.
Inside, I am rested. Peaceful. Connected. Present.
Life is an adventure. Life is grand.
So beautiful!
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Stunningly so Diana!
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Reading this mad me think of my late Nana who was afraid of storms
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I’m glad it made you think of someone you loved so much Joanne. ,3
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Beautiful shots! Especially the first one, I love the music made by the waves crushing on the shoreline. Awesome and beautiful! Sometimes I go to a senior center for lunch. It is located by the shoreline. After lunch, I always love to stand on the sandy shore watching the weaves roaring and rolling pushing the sea water to the shore with powerful crush.The quietness after the crushing brought me heavenly peace!
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What a beautiful image you’ve painted Myra! And yes — that moment of silence is profoundly moving. Happy new Year!
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Isn’t it grand!! Loved reading this post, Louise…I can feel the comfort…and the BEING!
Sweet blessings my friend💜
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It is how I feel here Lorrie! Being. Present. In the now. In the moment. Alive. Thank you my friend for being you! ❤
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I’m happy for you Louise😁 And what better life can we have than the one where we are authentically ourselves!!
Hope you create in love this week😁💜
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