Dear Friend,
How nice it would be to get to meet with you in person, maybe take an Autumn walk together and see some Autumny things.
So, how are you doing today in this time of leafy ground and naked bramble? I hope that your past week was as full, and as fun, as you wished it to be! And I hope that today is lovely.
We’ve been enjoying a reprieve from rain. Of course, we are not wanting it to stop all together, but it’s nice to have some sunny days! Weather is part of our daily conversation but not at all to avoid talking about other important things, deep things, the mysteries of life, our gratitudes, ideas, dreams…
Trailer update: It is a delight to be in our dry and quiet trailer-home. The desiccants are working wonders. And the dehumidifier is, seemingly, a miraculous contraption.
The dehumidifier is, of course, not actually working a miracle, but it's super helpful!
What, to you, is a miracle? I'm not asking about someone else's definition, rather, your own, based on your own experiences.
One chilly, full-moon, high-tide evening many years ago, Frank lost his wedding ring. He and one of his best friends had taken the day to photograph along the ocean. They’d hiked trails and walked the beach until dark. Then they made their way back to the car and went to dinner. As they were finishing their meal, Frank noticed that his ring was missing and began looking for it immediately. The restaurant, its bathroom, every trashcan, were all turned inside out. Then Frank and his friend went out to search the parking lot and car. Restaurant staff offered help with flashlights and patience. No ring. Then Frank realized… it might be on the beach… it might be on one of those trails! So off they went into the night, Frank and his (very good and caring) friend, back to the beach.
The light of the full moon would have been helpful, but it was shrouded in fog. In the very dark, the parking lot, the trails, the black sand, all stretched out endlessly. How could they possibly find such a small object … where would they even begin? High-tide waves were crashing in the distance. Frank’s heart sank. Deciding to continue his search the next morning, Frank dropped his friend off in town and called me to break the news, “I lost my ring.”
Well, I suppose I had some sort of internal reaction… but I wasn’t mad. Frank’s ring was the twin to mine, hand-made by a local artisan. The set was very special and meant a lot to both of us. I knew he didn’t lose it on purpose. I told him that I would leave early the next morning and drive down to look for it at daybreak, (preposterous as that seemed even as I said the words). That beach was at least three hours away from our home in the foothills and he wasn’t even sure if that’s where he’d lost his ring. The beach? Sand is shifting all the time. Did he drop it in the water? Could it be up on one of the inland trails? I wanted to try.
Meanwhile, Frank didn’t sleep well at all and was back to the beach before dawn. He parked the car carefully, then got out and began his search. He picked his way along what he could remember of the path he’d taken the day before.
Overwhelmed by lack of sleep and the crazy distance he had ahead of him, he struggled with the internal argument, “No-I-can’t!-Yes-I-can!” that ensues when you’re trying to believe the impossible… he asked himself logical questions like, “What am I doing out here?” “Why…?” But he really wanted to find his ring. He really didn’t want it to be lost.
So, he kept up his search for the ring, and gingerly, step by step, walked along in the early light of that day.
He was not the only person on the beach that morning. There was a man so far away he was just a speck, but Frank could tell that he was working the beach with a metal detector. What if he’s already found the ring? This is nuts. This is impossible.
A mixture of sea foam, leaves, and feathers skirted the surf-line in front of Frank, along with bits of driftwood, seaweed and shells… the tide had washed away footprints from the night before. Waves continued to crash in … this is hopeless. But, inch by inch his search continued.
After another hour or so, Frank felt that he was off track so he paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure that he’d even been at this part of the beach the day before. He needed to get his bearings, so he turned and faced the waves and just stood quietly.
Then a little voice in his head told him to turn around. He did, and looked down at the ground just beyond his left foot. His shoes were swept by the tail of a receding wave. The water washed in and out again. Frank saw down between splinters of old wood and wisps of gull-down, a berm of sand that held the partial rim of a circular object. Frank kneeled to look closer and realized he’d found something that looked like a ring. A cruel joke, but he picked it up anyway.
Back in the foothills, my alarm didn’t go off and I woke up in a panic. I’m supposed to be driving! I should already be halfway to the beach to look for Frank’s ring! Then my phone rang. It was Frank, he was elated, “I found it! I don't know what made me look there, but I found it!"
Time has passed, the ring has been properly sized and is still on his hand … Frank and I often marvel at the way he found his ring, it pops into our heads when things seem bleak; we know that what seems impossible can become possible. Such inexplicable things seem to happen when we least expect them and we are, each, grateful.
I know that every human being has a different way of believing something, that’s what helps to make us all individuals.
But why do some people believe that inexplicable things are miraculous and others believe such things are merely coincidental? How and why does the gleaming reality of an actualized impossibility fade from amazement into a search for proof and then dwindle to doubt as if the thing didn’t really happen at all? I don’t know the answers to those questions, I’m asking you.
We are grateful, as always, that you are here to read Tracks by the Post. We’d love to hear of your inexplicable happenings. Whether you believe them to be coincidental or miraculous, maybe a combination, maybe it just doesn’t matter how or why, please Write to Us and share!
Happy December 1st, by the way, which will be a lovely night for star-gazing if you have clear skies and also if any nearby light pollution is at a dull roar; there’s a new moon tonight!
May this week be a beautiful beginning to the last 31 days of 2024. Until next week...
Gently Be,
Leslie and Frank