This is the original story that was reworked in the conclusion in Hope from Stone
The Feather August 27th 1993 Revised 2015/2021
What a beautiful day and what a beautiful place we live in, truly heaven on earth. I lived along a five kilometre nicely tiled promenade that ran beside the shore. I was training for a 10 km run and it was a glorious track to practice on. But on this day, instead of running to the end and back, huffing and puffing, speeding past all the splendor, I chose to run there and walk back along the low tide.
And it was magnificent experiencing so many treasures! My beach sneakers were soft and comfortable, saturated from tromping through the tidal pools but no longer making the deafening squishing sound they made while I was trying to skirt around them. Nor were my feet cold. It felt so natural and went wandering where I needed to go, getting wet all over along the way. I had my morning garb on and nothing mattered. It was Saturday.
I was acutely aware of the number of and variety of birds I saw. Eagles (two), seagulls (both mature and juvenile), Murres, ducks, geese, Great Blue Herons (three), crows and a loon. Eight walks of feathered life within an hour of my doorstep. That is magic. Or maybe the magic is me taking the time to notice them, not just see them, but experience them, wonder at them, pay attention to them, observe them.
I found treasures and filled my baggy pockets. Sea glass, a couple of limpets, purple muscle shells, a flat scallop shell the size of a loonie. They were truly priceless. A couple of sand dollars beckoned to be picked up and I had thoughts of mailing a few to my cousin. I remember the sand dollars Maureen gave me so long ago and still have them today – that have become a precious gift marking the East Coast era of my life. I came across more sand dollars buried in the wet sand except for a sun bleached tip or white edge catching my eye. I began thinking how special it would be to put them in birthday cards for everyone. Then I spied more. It was like the more I thought of giving them away the more I found. It fit with the spiritual reading I took in that morning about how we will become less interested in ourselves, our little designs and plans, and become increasingly interested in what we can pack into the mainstream of life. And it was transpiring in that very moment with beach treasures to share. How I could brighten someone else’s day instead of clamouring around my perplexing indecisions I’d been struggling with. I was new to recognizing the difference between constructive and destructive thinking.
I found a beautiful deeply ridged clamshell perfectly intact with its mate, perfect for my porch railing. And right between the shells and happy thoughts two great new blue herons landed ten feet away. I moved too fast and one took flight, his great wing beat gained momentum as he faded in the horizon. But not before I saw something fall from him. I thought it was a muscle or a clam but when I got there it was a beautiful full length feather. It landed so tenderly on the water in a tidal pool and I rushed to get it but I didn’t want to scare the second bird so moved gently closer to retrieve the silken plume. It was a good twelve inches long and I couldn’t believe my luck finding it when the second one took flight. I watched his stately departure with the ceremonial majesty.
We are truly blessed to live here in heaven on earth.
And the double bonus was when I got home, answers to my previous indecisions bubbled up and seemed so clear after the morning spent there.