deep salt sea

Somewhere this morning already, I read the assertion, "life is sacred", which surprised me, and it occurs to me that I agree: so very sacred in fact, that even my own life isn't mine, doesn't belong to me, but belongs to creation and Creator, a sacrament of grace and challenge; who am I to claim life as my own, or, more, to waste it. 

Either by wasting life's Time, or by ending life early. 

I have, and do, loved and love, many and much, including people and what I see around me as in the hymn verse

I bind unto myself today

the virtues of the starlit heaven,

the glorious sun’s life-giving ray,

the whiteness of the moon at even,

the flashing of the lightning free,

the whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,

the stable earth, the deep salt sea

around the old eternal rocks.

If you don't know the hymn, called by its tune name St Patrick's Breastplate, my condolences, it's the greatest, one of, powerful and moving.

We have such beautiful summer clouds. Most days I see an opportunity to snap a photo, mostly into the wonder of sea and distance that is just outside my window. Looking up, half the firmament's bowl above me. Looking out and around, calm and peace, sometimes looming violence.

Every day is a beautiful day, and the clouds make it exponentially so. If I need an island of escape, 7H is my island. Peace. Quiet. The gate is locked. Nobody knocks at the door, the phone doesn't ring, the only way to be disturbed is if I invite it in, make it happen: turn on the television, raise the lid on my laptop.

Two pictures today. A few raindrops on the window by me, but the first storm has gathered and passed, the clouds over the Gulf and darkening the Bay are even more magnificent, but I'm done for now.

Oh WTH, 

and

not to mention

nomesane?

RSF&Pax&Pox&ABC&PTL

T+