The Sound of the Sea

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain’s side,
or roar of winds upon a wooded steep
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitude of being,
the rushing of the sea tides of the soul:
And inspirations that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I found this poem when I was cleaning up my studio. It has always stuck a cord with me. I do love waking up in the middle of the night to hear those waves on the beach outside my window by the Salish Sea. But what about creative inspirationst? Are they regular like the tides ( I think not) or something else we don’t understand? In the photo on the beach, the orange bark is from the arbutus trees nearby and there are 2 recent deer prints about to get covered over by the rising tide.....

My very good friend R, her son and grandson arrived yesterday and there was much talking, boating, walking, and great eating (she is a great cook - we are always in for treats!) but now I need to get in bed with the great book she brought me “The Boys in the Boat” about the 1936 Olympics in Berlin and the unlikely crew of 9 from the U of Washington who won the Olympic gold while Adolf Hitler watched his German boys lose. A well written stirring history.