Reflected Thoughts

Reflected Thoughts

This evening, I’m strangely contemplative. So many events in my life recently have caused me to sit back and think about what I value and treasure. These thoughts have prodded me to revisit once again places I hold in my memory where I have felt an unusual closeness to my true self. All too often, I allow myself to proceed through life at breakneck speed with little time for thoughtfulness and introspection. Yet in times of melancholy, I seem to be able to quiet my inner storm and focus more clearly than usual on things and places that are special keys to my heart.

I can’t say that I have traveled the world, but I can say that I have traveled the United States. I’ve seen my country in depth and detail twice in my life. Both times, I spent a couple of months traveling by car from coast to coast, stopping by a wide variety of small out of the way places. I seem drawn to places that are mostly forgotten by the mainstream. Those voyages and other ramblings have allowed me to build a nest of restful, close places.

The most peace I’ve ever felt in my life has been found on the Outer Banks at beach Ramp 27 south of Salvo, North Carolina. The following Photo Story highlights some of those experiences. But that show doesn’t capture the feeling I get as I stand beside the crashing surf with a surf casting rod pointed to the sea as the sun struggles to rise above the bank of morning fog far out at sea. There’s a beauty and peace in that scene that is relaxed by the reassuring march of the waves. As I watch the hungry morning birds flying in formation at wave level in search of breakfast, I allow my eyes to wander to the edge of the world. The trance I find envelops me and soothes all of my rough edges.

I guess I’m drawn to places where I can allow myself to become isolated. These places allow me to look inward for a special peace. Just west of Cut Bank, Montana on the main highway to Glacier National Park, there’s a little campground by the side of the road. It’s called Shady Grove Campground. Just down the dirt road a ways, you can walk and stop beside the barbed wire fence and catch your first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. Snow-capped, sharp toothed peaks flirting with summer squalls, wind rushing down from the slopes and into your unguarded face; these mountains hold charm over you. I could stand in that dusty spot, transfixed in some time warp where seconds seem like hours.

Along the side of Highway 1 in Down East Maine, there’s a little seaside town named Lincolnville. This is where the Islesboro Ferry comes ashore for passengers. Along the side of the busy road is a beach park with a concrete bench. I like to sit on that bench and stare at the nearby islands and imagine sailing with full sail over to them. Right out of a Robert McCloskey’s book, Time to Wonder.

Speaking of water, you can stand on the shore of Lake Superior at Porcupine Mountains State Park in the UP of Michigan and gaze into forever. The shoreline, comprised of dark smooth slate seems to be a table top and the sea beyond is on the plate.

These are just a few of my places. I challenge you to find some of your own. Write about them here or just think about them privately.