At the far end of Roaring Beach are sand stone and sedentary cliffs born in the oceans millions of years ago; now risen to offer shelter within caves carved by wind and waves.
A young child sits beneath an overhang. To her right are the remnants of an aboriginal charcoal midden of blackened shells exposed by recent storms. How old? The girl 12. The midden? 1,000 or 2,000 or 5,000 years of age? Without carbon dating, no one really knows.
This morning I download yesterday’s photos of the cave and on the computer screen there appear, next to this ancient midden, some mysterious white vertical shimmering lines that I was unaware of when standing in front with camera in hand.
Try as I might, they remain unfathomable to my rational mind.
Mary Oliver writes:
“There are in this world a lot of devils with wondrous
smiles. Also, many unruly angels.”
Flipping the image upside down, can you see, perhaps, the darkened face of the guardian?
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