Stepping into a library and setting off a sensor with my book. Great way to break the silence. I like a grand entrance but somehow coming into a library it just seems a bit too much. Faux pas extraordinaire. A library is a hallowed place. A cathedral of quiet. I used to escape to the library when the children were small. I had an idea that it would be the quietest place I could find to soothe my soul....of course there were always noisy children there to remind me of my folly.
Our home in Homer is a funky house with creaky stairs. The mornings are so still it is noticeable. Absolute quiet. The roosters are on the other side of the house so no morning's-a-coming warning from them. At home the roosters go off and draw me from sleep earlier than I want!!
We toured yesterday. It's a tradition with these conferences to do two long days of meetings with a tour on the middle day. I experienced a long drive listening to a wind bag guy blah blah blah for waaaay tooo many miles. Then, Scott invited him to sit with us at lunch. Great googly moogly hadn't he been bored to death by this guy as well? Fortunately for me there was a presentation about the salmon cannery whilst we dined on sandwiches...Phew, that was a close call. Small talk would have become small listening, if you catch my drift! No chance to get a word in!
Homer is a "quaint drinking village with a fishing problem". Last night we enjoyed an evening at the Salty Dawg sipping the local Scottish Ale, listening to sea shanties and tall tales from the fisher folks who make their living from these waters. I felt honored to sit on the perimeter and listen to some amazing and funny tales. We sang along since the shanties were laced with easy-to-remember choruses. It was a kickoff to the Wooden Boat Festival this weekend. A last hurrah before the cold weather comes roaring in.
The tide this morning is nice and low. I gandered along the beach to grab some video footage. There are places along the beach here that are completely covered with water at high tide, impassable. And then at low tide the shorebirds can search for clams and crabs and such. My life is spent paying attention to the moon's influence in a completely different way. I know of moon rhythym lore for planting seeds. It gets turned on its head once in a while. My Peruvian friends plant during the full moon. I skip a few days around the full as an homage, really. Isn't that how I do everything, though, as an homage?
It's New Moon now. New beginnings with the approaching equinox. Summer and her bounty are drifting away.
Bird count for Friday morning: 3 adult Bald Eagles and 1 Juvenile. He flew across my path this morning. Thanks for that gift.
Peace and Blessings from the Kachemak Bay.