Seeing God on a bay, in the sand and in waves

Seeing God on a bay

Yesterday after church I took the boat and I headed out onto Core Sound on my own. The light on the bay was brilliant in spite of high, humidity laden clouds. By the time I got to Davis Island the wind was up out of the southwest and low swells were breaking on the white sandy beach. A flock of Pelicans, Sea Gulls and other bay birds were the only other visible life on the point.

I wandered from the bite where I anchored the boat out of the chop and wind, up the island. Thankfully the strong wind kept the biting flies away from me. As I walked shirtless I let the loneliness of the spot wash over me. I didn’t feel lonely, I felt peace. Here I would walk and really see the wind bent Live Oaks, the salt and sun faded driftwood and root systems at water’s edge and endless layers of washed in shells. Several storms have moved all sorts of treasures out of the depths and onto the shore. My wandering at Davis Island lasted perhaps a little more than an hour, I’m not sure of the exact amount of time, I went without a watch. Walking back toward the boat I felt decompressed and at ease.

My next destination, the banks across from Davis Island where there is a well marked channel in. From the water I could see what appeared to be many campers and trucks but as I drew nearer to the ferry dock it was clear that the banks were nearly human less at the moment. The water was glass like as I put in to the dock, there is just enough of a cut to block the wind, by this point the wind was at my back. Immediately after anchoring the flies attacked and I could hear the surf pounding on the beach. With towel in hand acting as a swatting tail, I headed through the dunes to the beach. As the wind gusted the flies disappeared only to reappear with calm air. The beach was desolate except for one truck and two people fishing.

Thankfully they were three quarters of a mile east, so I walked west.
The surf was cold, well cold in comparison to the bay, the bay eighty five degrees, the surf maybe seventy five, so not really cold. I walked west on the beach, away from the people fishing at the truck and the beach was filled with shells; all washed in from storms. There were hundreds of sand dollars, unfortunately most broken and I only found two whole ones. As I wandered time escaped me and so did more stress. The sun started sliding toward the horizon and as it grew dusky the flies grew more ravenous. It didn’t matter, the peace and the beauty of the place revealed God’s splendor, the crashing waves a reminder of how timeless all of creation is. Truly I found God among the birds, waves and the beach. Heading home more magnificence as I found myself in a pod of twelve or so Porpoise; I idled the boat among them as they fed and it was remarkable, I feel lucky to have witnessed them. In the stronger wind I also enjoyed the chop and really didn’t feel fearful at all.