". . . Oh, quake!
Pound on the earth: dull and earthen its echo,
deadened and muffled by what we undertake.
Pound on the star: 'twill disclose itself for your sake!
Pound on the star: invisible number signs
are realized; the capacities of an atom
are multiplying in space. The tone shines.
And what here is ear to its fulsome
stream, is also somewhere eye: this dome
arches itself somewhere in designs. . . "
from Music
by Rainer Maria Rilke
(Thank you, Annette)
Such poetry and amazing rock formations - enough to take your breath away.
ReplyDeleteLooks like that one hatched.
ReplyDeleteoh, john--perfect!
ReplyDeletei think i'm going to have to come there, Claire. i cant see a beach w/o wanting to walk it.
next summer?
The photos seem like views from a space probe which has managed to land somewhere with oceans; these are the inhabitants.
ReplyDeleteElisabeth - these rocks embody the sacred, I'm sure; they seem to breathe, too. It's hard not to feel affected in their company.
ReplyDeleteJohn - what do you imagine would emerge? Would it have feathers, scales, skin, a silicon chip or whirring motor...?
Susan - you who loves to be out in the natural environment would love to walk this beach. Do come! (Why ever not?)
ReplyDeleteMarylinn, I like your suggestion... These rocks have a potent energy, there can be no denying it; how could they not raise questions? They tumble out of the coastal cliff face, emerge from beneath the beach sand. Yesterday they looked as though they were all preparing to enter the sea, readying themselves for a boisterous swim to some far distant shore.
ReplyDeleteSo lovely. Thank you for this today.
ReplyDeleteBeloved Snail - one of the things I appreciate about the blogosphere is the way it allows us to walk each other's streets, gardens, beaches...
ReplyDeleteAll good things to you over in Holland.
Claire
Claire,
ReplyDeleteNow that depends on which direction it went: If out to sea, then definitely scales, flipper, fin and largish brain; but if towards land I'd have to say some variation of bearded poltroon that likes cider, good yarns, souped-up lawnmowers and has a fetish for motorized gadgets ... you sorry you asked?
Claire, I keep thinking about these. I thought about them in my car on the way to the grocery store this morning and I thought about them as I attempted (once again) to dust my small house. I kept thinking moon or solar or some mysterious spiritual world yet discovered. Exactly the way I feel always at the sea at the sea. These photos are so palpable and visceral to me I can smell them.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
love,
Rebecca
Hah, John! I am definitely not sorry I asked! A bearded poltroon, eh? He doesn't sound too bad a sort...
ReplyDeleteDear Rebecca
ReplyDeleteYes, I know just what you mean... the sea takes us elsewhere - further away and closer to things, both. It reminds of mysterious other times and places.
I feel at home near the sea, never 'at sea' near the sea (if you know what I mean?). Being there is always restorative. I'm glad to know the images of these rocks have been keeping you company.
L, C x