On the beach five bamboo poles are laced together with reed grass.  Sisal rope holds an enlarged seat (a tide worn plank with blue paint and years to go) on which we stand swinging between the strand and water.  Dancing in the rays of morning sun as we cover our morning miles.  (Never can get this right… We walk miles but measure in kilometres?) We know we swing not only between heaven and earth, between have and have-not, between visitor and local, between this country and the one we just left and between wants and needs.  Then a few feet along the waterfront and we see that the tide also swings.  High to low.  Spring to summer.  Moon to noon.  In the intertidal zone life abounds.

Maybe the lesson is for us too.  Somewhere between our peaks and valleys, sneaks and dodges there is a zone where we live life.

The amazing thing about living at the water’s edge is that it is ever changing.  Nothing sure! Yet certain!  Unknown, yet predictable.  The Japanese couple paused in middle of their wedding reincarnation to take our picture.  The learning may have more to do with being available than being on a mission.

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