Cape Light

The problem with the ocean is that there are no mountains. Other than that we're liking it out here at the edge of the world. It's a special place and each day we discover beautiful natural settings. This afternoon we were charmed by a walk through the woods in Spring-like weather. This morning we had the beach to ourselves at low tide for miles on end. These are enchanting times and exactly what we needed. Okay, it's exactly what I needed. The Little Bug was doing just fine the way he was. I, on the other hand, was more than a little fractured. I needed to put myself back together. The tip of the Cape in midwinter is a perfect place for solitude with limitless doses of nature all around.

By the time we return to Jackson on Sunday we'll have accomplished much of what I wanted to do. It will also be good to see 'home' again. We will miss the sunsets, though. And no one captures the sun at such times like Provincetown poet Mary Oliver...

The Sun
by Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?