Copyright © 2011 by Karl Meyer.  All Rights Reserved.

Lunar Retreat

June 16,2011                                                                                         South Wellfleet, MA 3 pm

Half of the Bank Row Writers are asleep–or trying to be, on a sun-drenched June afternoon on outer Cape Cod. This June sun, bumped fully into the open by last night’s amber full moon, has proven a worthy obstacle. Coming on the heels of day-upon-day of gray spring chill–the intense June light, coupled with these glittering, sandy shoals, has quickly melted our Yankee defenses.  We are relaxed. We are comfortable.  We are drooling on pillowcases in the middle of the day.

Yet, here on this temporary sand spit that will remain known as Cape Cod for a time, there is a single, profound reality permeating the collective subconscious as we daydream; as we sleep. It is ocean; the awareness of ocean. It is the inescapable presence of the great water that links us all to this past, and this future.

Moon, sea, cloud, tide–earth is nothing if not a water planet–a wet, chaotic and wondrous place that has offered a foothold to random, organized collections of complex atoms from time to time.

Staring at last night’s brimming tide and spring full moon at Nauset, it seemed inevitable that we would come to meet at this place.  Inevitable too, even for our three Bank Row comrades toiling at daily work a hundred miles from any tide–someday, not long off, their presence will be co-mingled with the same consciousness now holding us in its grip–here, today, at Ocean.

But for all, the question will remain; the puzzle will linger as the sea breeze presses through the fingers of whispering pitch pines: what’s to be done with this great consciousness? Is the mystery more sacred?, or were we shoved into our agitated awareness merely to solve one riddle, following closely on the heels of the next??

The answer to existence could be Ocean.  The proper response to awareness could be awe.  At this moment, half-awake under sunny June skies on the sands of Cape Cod, I can manage but a simple gesture to the full tides waiting to accept me: thanks.