In honor of St. Herman of Alaska, We spent the early afternoon at the beach. It was baby Anna’s first beach day.
The weather was perfect. Cool and fresh after yesterday’s rain. I sat and nursed the baby while the kids brought me treasures and increasingly wet pant legs to be rolled up.
We were the only ones on the beach for a long while until an old man came, digging in various places between rocks. He told us he has found a few thousand dollars worth of jewelery over the years. He explained how the metals settle in patterned locations.
Sand and water, wind and warm sunlight refreshed us all. We imagined St. Herman traveling between Kodiak and Spruce Island in his kayak, helping, teaching, advocating for, loving and being with the Aleut people. We talked of the cold Alaskan winters and his hermitage hollowed out of the sod.
Climbing, jumping, gathering, digging, mixing, breathing deeply. This may just become a yearly tradition on this feast.
And who knows, Basil’s charcoal “Chauvet Pont D’Arc cave drawings” may still be there next visit. I’m sure it will be much sooner than next December.
A blessed Feast to all :)