One of Beau’s favourite places to sit is at the door to the deck watching the world outside. Walkers. Bikers. Cars. Dogs. Waves lapping. Trees swaying. He sits and watches. Immobile. Until the man with a walker appears.

He arrives every mid-afternoon when the skies are clear or cloudy. He walks with purpose. Slow. Steady. His progress is measured and thoughtful. His walker the helm of his personal ship, providing guidance and stability as he navigates the road along the sea.

He stops in front of our house, turns his walker to provide him a seat upon which to sit and watch the waves. Passers-by stop and chat as the man holds court at the edge of the bay.

And Beaumont watches. Sometimes, if a passer-by is walking a fellow canine, Beau barks in welcome. Sometimes, the other dog barks back. Mostly, they ignore him.

Beau is impervious to their response. He keeps watching, bearing silent witness to the endless ballet of the waves and the story of life unfolding outside.

I have not had much time for watching. Unpacking. Organzing. And re-organizing have consumed me. And still, I feel the draw of the ocean calling me to Be still. Breathe. Become.

Unpacking has become a meditation here at the edge of the sea. The salty air, the cries of the gulls, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves – it all conspires to steal my attention. Each wave is a story: some whisper secrets against the sand, while others roar their defiance against the unyielding rocks. Some roll in with the gentle caress of a lover’s kiss, while others crash against the land, a tempestuous lover determined to have the last word.

Never are the waves still.

Never do they stop rolling in and out. In and out.

Mesmerized, I forget the boxes needing my attention. I ignore the pile of books on the floor waiting for a bookcase to appear. The trinkets looking for a place to call home.

In those moments, dinner can wait. The need to organize fades as I slip effortlessly into watecher’s mode. Like the man with the walker, I must slow my pace, savour each moment and simply watch.

The sea does not hold answers. It is alive with the questions, inviting me to let go of the need to know. To surrender to the exquisite mystery of now. To fall breathlessly alive into living, like a bird taking flight into a vast and boundless sky soaring above the vast and boundless sea.