Gateway

Even on an overcast day, like today, there is beauty to be found.

I don’t know why, but every time I stoop low to walk through this green tunnel on the way to the beach, I smile. Something about “becoming again as a child” perhaps. Or, just a smug satisfaction knowing that the shape has grown from nothing to this present form over the past twelve years due to patient pruning on my part.

Comprised mainly of coastal wattle, this leafy gateway is both an entrance and an exit. Upon leaving the house, it symbolises a chance to keep behind my studio and other “work” and head freely to the cleansing surf. Upon leaving the beach and its wildness, then walking beneath the arched shadows that brush against wet skin, I enter back into the safety of home; into the warm confines of a warm refuge more intimate and close than what is on the other side of the tunnel.

There is also a tiny sense of being “rebirthed”; a chance to change my mood if I choose. I carry from the house anger, sadness, joy or elation. This portal allows an opportunity to drop the emotion or carry it on.

More often than not, the physical act of lowering myself has a humbling effect on my being. In such a short distance of a few feet, a sense of tolerance to the issues of the day drop onto and into me. I’m forced to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There’s no denying it. Its always there. Present. Everyday. How lucky can one get?