Visual Storytelling

At Sea

I had a dream once where I was lost at sea. You were there but I don’t expect you to remember. I can still see how
your brow furrowed as you told me the road ahead would be treacherous, tumultuous, unpredictable, and wild. I was calm.

Wild hearts can’t be broken.

Eventually, the fog clears and we see that the ground that has been unsteady beneath our feet and dared us to move was the ocean’s crashing waves all along. Our faces are wet and beneath our waders, we have chills. Somehow this feels like a truce. We lower our gaze and learn to tie new knots. Cast our nets to feed our bellies and our souls. In this dream, we are awake with salt and soaked hats hanging up to dry above a fireplace in a cabin in Maine. Morning frost croons a song of gritty winter. We slow our pace to an ebb and pick up an old journal with a handwritten quote by Wendell Berry scribbled, “You think winter will never end, and then, when you don’t expect it, when you have almost forgotten it, warmth comes and a different light.” About as country as it gets.

The lighthouse shines in our direction.

We hunker down and surrender.