As I sat down to write this blog, I found myself staring at a blank page. No words. No thoughts. No imagination. Just a white page.
Perhaps my words are still in Maine, sitting on the porch at the Albonegan Inn, mesmerized by the ebb and flow of the tide. Or a brilliant rainbow that materialized before my awestruck eyes. And each sunrise that captured my dreams and pulled me outside to see the glory of rich morning colors and feel the cool air on my sleepy face. Maybe I left them at the long dining table surrounded by old and new friends listening to conversations sprinkled with musical laughter.
My words might be camping out on the beach at Reid State Park, amazed by the simplicity of the rocky bits of coastline and the veins of ice-cold ocean water pulsing through the sand. As Dulcie and I waded through a couple of these, my soul was instantly invigorated. The vast blue sky with billowy splotches of white clouds and my feet entrenched in the sun-warmed sand was so peaceful and comforting. Thank you, Dulcie, for sharing this tucked away respite with me.
I must have dropped words along the twisting backyard path to the river. The Androscoggin River was stunning as it stretched out before a shady, sandy beach to the swimming hole. A large round rock made a good spot to sit and ponder while getting lost in the zig-zag reflection of lush green vegetation from an adjacent island. Shades of cobalt blue reached toward the strata of lichen covered rocks giving the invitation to sit down at this favorite spot and ponder a little while longer. Wispy soft clouds adorned the sky and made for one fantastic landscape canvas.
Some of my words could have been swallowed by the local frog and toad population while serenading me to sleep at night from two nearby ponds with their loud vocals. These sounds took me back to my little girl days, when i lived in the country and heard them every night. I was comforted by the thought. And it did make me think of “Jeremiah was a bullfrog.”
My wish is that I left my words in the hearts and souls of those I met along the way. I know that I returned home with their words in my heart. Words can do a lot of good in this world when not spoken in haste or anger. I hope I left kind words lying around the beach or on the street or floating in a pond and they find their way to a hurting soul.
When I sat down, I had no thoughts of what to say but it seems as though no words might say a lot sometimes, if we listen close enough.