First Night, Halibut Point

 

Quarry reflections

Winter Solstice, 2020

Standing before the curtain-rise of New Year's Eve 2020, my thoughts jostle inescapably with the past and the future.

More people than ever have discovered Halibut Point State Park during the pandemic. They resonate with the open-air splendor of it. The administration tries to balance these numbers, these external forces, with the welfare of the Park's natural life. I remind myself that our native good fortune is not a private entitlement to land of the Commonwealth. I wince, and I grin.

My fellow citizens are discovering more about the brokenness and balm of solitude. Time will tell if new patterns take hold. Companions smooth the edges of disruption.

I have seen newness, daring, hilarity leap over mountains to meet the sky.

Red-eyed Vireo

Winter has just begun. Daylight has been lengthening steadily since the solstice. The makings of song build in the fragile, ineffable processes of renewal.

Earth, water and sky wait to see what people will attach to the threads of their being.

Partners gaze on the fierce gifts of revelation and the molecular work of obedience.

I inhale elemental scripts mirrored in the stillness. Granite glides over water, improvising spectral breath. Players disrobe and dissolve time. Ticket holders write roles on the tissue of yearning. A thousand nativities whisper communion with ancient alphabets. The curtain rises on a kaleidoscope of creation.