my beach

Sandpiper Dance

/ jill autrey dorman

The little seabird with twigs for legs hurries up and back about three feet.  Waves rolls seaward and the Sandpipers skirmishes lighting fast to peck a little minnow and hurries back …the water never once touches her. It is comical, this dance of the Piper. Her spindle like legs never seems to tire…

This is the beauty that fills my mind.  ” everything that is created was created by Jesus. By him all things made above the earth, below the earth, on land, and in the sea. Everything visible and invisible were made by him for his pleasure. Jesus hold all things together and in him all things live and move and have their being.

Even the Sandpipers Dance is for Him.

Photo by Georg Wietschorke

    Snapshot Dreams

    / jill autrey dorman
    Photo by Tina Nord

    Pages of snap shots in my dreams.


    I rise early in the morning a few seconds post dawn. The melted butterscotch sky is streaked with baby blue and left over indigo. A nice squall blew up last night and the sand has no footprints in it. The sand dunes are pregnant with sea oats. The oats, my favorite tropical grass, sway charmingly in the breeze and quietly support the island with their roots. The large oats smell like salt and theirs stalks tall and sleek weave into grass.


    Just in a snap spot of my dreams I take off running from shore as the rain begins. I dash and grab my laundry on the clothes line.. At that moment your camera just happened to find my face and you say,” your eyes are blue- gray, like seawater.” I close my eyes. When I open them you are gone.
    Shutter stop.

    Watercolor Garden

    / jill autrey dorman

    Camellias are blooming stout and ruffled in oh so many rosy shades of pinks!

    Azalea bushes lay a thick carpet for Gulf summer heat and rain.

    The golden-green sea oats weave and spin the island’s core in an endless ballet.

    All the while, the Faithful Morning Glories, pink and yellow, vine along the sand like a hodgepodge of holiday lights.

    The salt sits thick upon my skin and hair.

    I am baptized in a wave and the horizon melts into carnival colors of pulled taffy in my Watercolor Garden.

    Even the dried saltwater on the stones…

    / jill autrey dorman

    green grass during sunset

    Photo by Nathan Cowley

     

    Every part is beautiful.

    Every wave is different.

    Every seashell my passioned treasure.

    Every color of blue and green soothes my soul.

    There is music in the rolling of water to shore.

    The seagulls sing harmony in a minor key.

    The eastern morning sun rises like Heaven’s coda.

    The sunset in the West a goodnight lullaby from God.

    I kiss the sea oats whispering secrets to the dunes.

    I love even the dried saltwater upon the pathway stones.

    I am a Texas girl through and through,

    but my Florida beach is the place I have to return to.

    A tether, a life line in it’s order to refuel and renewal.

    Just me, God, and the salty sea, my triage

    It is all a gift of dreams to me that I gratefully adore

    The Song

    / jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments

    woman holding a moon

    Photo by Ruvim 

    The sea grass sways like a waltz that makes a pathway  to the dunes.

    Her body casts a shadow beneath a snow white moon.

    The warm breeze smells like a salty seaweed lullaby.

    The tall sea oats whisper in  tempo with their peaceful sighs.

    She follows the resounding song that leads her to the shore

    and wonders how the ocean seems to know that she has been here before.

    She is welcomed to the water and the sand soothes her aching feet

    and she marvels at the miracle where sky and ocean meet.

    She kneels in the warmth of this waltz and says a grateful prayer

    then she is dancing once more to the Song of The Holy Ones’s love and care.

    Exposed and Authentic

    / jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments

    brown sand

    Photo by Miri on Pexels.com

     

    The salty air lay thick upon my skin.

    Laughter in the village sings so sweetly.

    Never does a hard day meet me here,

    when I walk by the sea in God’s keeping.

     

    This beach helps me see outside of my self,

    and find The One who is the Hope of all things.

    Exposed and authentic the waves hit my feet,

    with no fear of the dance tomorrow will surely bring.

     

    I will sing in this His cathedral

    of sky and sand and sea.

    I praise The Holy One who cannot be undone

    and give thanks as He walks here with me.

    In the Eyes of It All

    / jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments

    photo of person covered with brown textile

    Photo by Noelle Otto

     

    I don’t know where you went when you left me.

    I have to believe you were sure you had to leave.

    People always seem to have to be, have to go, have to hear what someone else has said.

    The Truth running away like a spool of thread.

    Still, I remember it felt like drowning in a rip tide.

    There is a sadness in the end, in the eyes of it all.

    I am much the stronger for it but I don’t wait for your call.

    The Shell Seeker

    / jill autrey dorman

     

     

    brown sand

    Photo by Miri

    Standing on the highest sand dune people moved back and forth on the ground below.  She no longer has their youthfulness of an unlined face but she knew she finally possessed the joy of ageless Grace. The pilgrimage called her to this beautiful place. The wind and the sun an old friend on her face.

    Now she is the shell seeker in the wide brimmed hat, as a child playing in the sun she’d laughed at people like that. She remembers younger  days when she grew weary but now the days of peace are what linger here.  Emotions don’t obey the rules they are the heartbeat in being human.  Like waves reaching the shore emotions can be kept for a moment but are better when given away.

    The shell seeker’ s eye remains clear and adept while watching the children play. She knows that life is not going back but more of giving it away. The Truth is, life consists in learning and loving well with Grace underneath God’s sun.  To remain whole in the midst of life’s ups and downs, to surrender all secrets and lies is anointing oil to the soul. To shed insincerity and live in the present, the waves echo behind her now compelling her to go on.

    Emmet

    / jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments

    green grass during sunset

    Photo by Nathan Cowley

     

    The daybreak drizzle has moved out to sea.

    The dawning clouds are steel gray.

    The wind is about 10 knots up from the Gulf Stream.

    Nations have risen and fallen, two world wars, more political unrest, man has gone to the moon and the World Wide Web has come along, but nothing much has changed on this little wedge of the island.

    The tide goes in and out.

    The gulls and cranes still swoop and dive and the dolphin still dance. The beautiful gold sea oats continue to hold the sand dunes together…
    But now you… have been born!

    Your little smile, your hands and feet have changed everything.

    I cannot smile without you.

    There are very few words of wisdom I will give you as you grow up and let me into your world of sticks, and bugs, and rocks.

    You will sleep the sleep of the blessed each night and when I get the chance I will tuck you in.

    What I will do my grandson is love you. Love you unconditionally with all of my being and spirit.

    Long after I am gone I will still watch over you and love you with a love that has no end.

    The daybreak is clearer now, the sea breeze cleansing. The wars and internet have no meaning to me now.

    The tide is a beautiful dance and all of God’s creatures perform just for you.

    The sand dunes are for you to climb and my whole world is golden.

    The Quiet Side, A Different Peace…

    / jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments

    I

    two boat on ocean during golden time

    Photo by Skitterphoto

     

    The North shore of my piece of sugar white heaven faces the sound (Bay) side of the island.

    The three mile bridge stands sentinel guard and my  small bay is dotted with white sails stirring my heart.

    The bridge that brings me home to my nautical world.

    The smell of fish and salt is a soothing balm to a weary girl.

    The hermit crabs do a miniature square dance that leads them safely home.

    The Sandpipers play hopscotch in the tide pool foam

    The Gulls swoop and squawk over schools of fish and bones

    There is a different peace on the Sound, the quiet side.

    It always feels like the end of the day here where the tired come home to rest.

    Like a sweet baby’s coo the waves lap upon the shore.

    The “Quiet Side” is what the locals call the back door.

    And are happily living and dying on this island right here.