Sanctuary
There is a hidden little cove in Rogue's Roost. You turn left just before that rock formation projecting the farthest out. Inside you are safe from wind and wave and any other danger rampant in the world today. Of course you need a boat. Boats are good for Nova Scotians. The province has much to see that is glorious to see and that can only be seen from the water. In this sanctuary glory, in fact, is the only entertainment. Because nothing is happening. Except the tide goes in and out. And if you go in, like I did, when the tide is going out, you may find your stay prolonged as your boat settles onto the sandy and seaweedy bottom and refuses to budge. And this is a good thing. You become more familiar with the range of your patience. Once you have taken pictures and meditated and eaten your lunch (BLT on sourdough with a glass of sauvignon blanc), the occupation that remains is watching the gradual, the very very gradual, the infinitesimally gradual, return of the tide and the eventual lifting of your vessel. During which minor eternity you both appreciate your freedom and grind your teeth a little at being stranded in it. All in all a wonderful, uplifting and intimately empty experience, pure and natural, fresh and lovely. My wish for today is that everyone be similarly lucky and well-blessed, no matter where you are or what your circumstances. Let that heart imprisoned by your ribs know its innate liberty anyway.
7 April 2020
Texas Jim
Rogue's Roost, Nova Scotia
granitecoast.ca