Thankful

A year and a half into the Diaries, I admit that a certain gloom has been creeping in lately. So many bags of garbage, so many news accounts of declining seas & shores. Too much plastic junk, and still more being churned out every day.

So this past Monday when I hit the beach, a pall hung over my thoughts.

Which is why what I found was such a startling, beautiful surprise. Here is the grand total of debris from 500 feet of beachfront for the week:

Barely two dozen pieces. Take away the rock, glass (and of course the infernal cigarettes), and last week the sea washed up a grand total of 9 tiny things.

It was a clean beach. The kind my ancestors would have enjoyed -- probably never imagining any other kind. It was the brief vision of a future that my daughter and all of the next generations deserve. One that's worth fighting for. The kind of day where you truly could forget the modern world. See the gorgeous ripples of outflow at the far end of the low-tide terrace:

Study the beautiful striations running the length of sun-bleached driftwood:

 And admire the geometric artwork left behind by a few errand-running gulls:

I know it's fleeting. I know the challenges & the realities. To borrow Tolkien, "The land dreams in a false peace." But for the glimpse & reminder of what that peace could actually look like, I'm grateful. And thankful.