I sit on the rocks while the great cormorant perches like a statue on the cliff, drying its wings in the sun, surveying the expanse of ocean.

Sunbeams dance and sparkle on moving waters, a gentle haze of sea spray is carried in the breeze.  The waves break over the rocks creating an endless low rumble as rocks are rolled back and forth, back and forth and so on and so on . . . . .

A multitude of different shapes and sizes, some rocks gleam dark as the water washes over them, others lie marooned, faded, dry and hot in the morning sun. The waves caress and withdraw as the tide slowly turns, the rocks continue their rumbling dance.

I ponder life and the presence of Grace.  The beach becomes a metaphor, the rocks, the fragile human journey of ‘becoming,’ the ocean, the expansive presence of Grace.    Tossed and rolled at times, marooned and stranded through life’s storms and extremities, yet throughout Grace continues, transforms, regenerates.    Human lives, those pounding rocks, shaped and moulded by contact with others, supported and held through the heat, the rain and wind experiences of life.

The ocean, ever-present, timeless beauty, seeking out, lives awash or gently touched as spray in the breeze.   The magnetic attraction of Grace continues, drawing closer to the heart, until the journey is over, the ocean has gathered to itself, and all has become one with Love.

The great cormorant perches like a statue on the cliff, drying its wings in the sun surveying the expanse of ocean.  

I wonder . . . . . how aware am I of Grace in the moments of my life?

Mary Robson

(images by Mary Robson)