Put my ear buds in, choose Nov 2010 playlist. I Gotta Feeling, Black Eyed Peas is cranking. I look out over the ocean from the top of the wooden stairs and I am smiling. Oh, this is what I have thought about for so many months. I walk down carefully (don't want any splinters) deciding if I should walk north or south. There's two guys fishing to the south, so I'll go north. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I step into the sand. Sink down a half inch. Then another step and another. My goal is the hard sand right at the apex of the wave's reach. Not too soft, not too hard, not too much splashing.
I have tears forming. This feels so good, cool sand in my feet (its morning so the sand still contains the nighttime's coolness), waves crashing to my right, calls of sea gulls, smell of salt and seaweed washed up and shells. I think, have I ever really appreciated how good this feels? Have I ever really been thankful for taking a walk on the beach?
I remember lying on the white living room sofa at home under my ivory quilt for so much of the past seven months, feeling terrible. How overwhelmed with emotion, I know not exactly which emotion it is, that I am standing here in the cool sand embarking on a leisurely walk instead of lying under the quilt trying to get through another hour.
Break your Heart, Taio Cruz is the next song. I head north. I am determined to walk twenty minutes and do some yoga postures in the midst. I start off. Next Clocks, Coldplay and then Three Little Birds, Bob Marley. I stop. I am on a slight promontory of the beach, perfect. I stretch my arms and back, then do three Warrior poses with left leg forward. I'm feeling great. That Don't Impress Me Much, Shania Twain. Lose My Soul, tobyMac. I start back, then remember you have to do the same poses with the right leg forward. Ahhh. If It Wasn't for Bad, Elton John/Leon Russell takes me through these poses and I am "glowing".
Walking back, I take the opportunity to sit in one of Windsor's Beach Club chairs set up under an umbrella. I need to catch my breath. DJ Got Us Fallin' In Love, Usher. Livin for Jesus, Third Day.
I didn't have my camera or phone, so I'm going to have to paint this scene for you. Probably a photo wouldn't do it justice anyway.
There are bait fish running north. Last night at Thanksgiving dinner at the clubhouse, one of my aunt's neighbors commented on what a day it is for those bait fish when they are running. They jump up out of the water to get away from the pursuing sharks, and end up as dinner for a zooming in seagull.
As we talked about his comment, we think the food chain has more steps than shark directly to bait fish, but I simply told you what the neighbor said...
How do you Like me Now?, Toby Keith
The blue-gray ocean is calm, the bait fish are running just beyond the white foam of the crashing waves. I didn't notice them while walking. But here I set, just looking out, catching my breath.
I see more birds than normal out over the ocean. Way more. Seagulls, pelicans, and two osprey. Hm. Counting the seagulls, about one hundred twenty seagulls, that's a lot. I have never seen osprey at the beach.
Made to Love, tobyMac.
More gulls are coming in. Okay, now I get it, the bait fish are running. One hundred twenty seagulls having the time of their lives, swooshing up and down, in and out, teasing the waves, eating fish. They are gliding in from everywhere. A feeding frenzy. Golden Corral on steroids. This could be a YouTube video, but I don't have my phone or camera. AHHHH. Chaos like Target this morning at 4 AM ( it is Black Friday.) I was asleep at 4 AM, but I imagine it was chaos.
The osprey join in, one pair, circling above the seagulls for a minute, then they spiral up to a height where they don't have to flap their wings. They are riding the air current, two black silhouettes against the clouds. Little white puffs of clouds, like flattened cotton balls against a shockingly blue sky. Beautiful, Lucy Schwarz. This pair of osprey are showing no interest in the fish. Bait fish and seagulls are fifty feet from me, really close and right straight off shore. The osprey are up three hundred feet or more.
Hey Soul Sister, Train.
The seagulls are noisy and it is chaos. Noisy and non-stop motion.
Here come four pelicans. Fighter jets zooming in low over the water, landing in the middle of the fish and sea gull frenzy. Two more. Three more. Precise movements. They pelicans end up in a tight group, like buoys on the water. Bobbing over the waves. Seagulls ignore them, dashing everywhere. Ospreys above it all, needing only one wing flap a minute to keep in the air current.
Lifesong, Casting Crowns. Sweet Dreams, Eurythmics. Release Me, Agnes.
I notice the chaos of seagulls has slightly shifted north. I have to turn my head to the left to see the middle of their orbits. The seagulls have following the school of bait fish north. In their apparent lack of organization, they have adjusted to the change in location. Elevation, U2.
The pelicans haven't moved. Remaining in their squad of nine, floating over the calm waves. They are still where they were ten minutes ago. No bait fish to be found near them.
The osprey are up there in the clouds, three hundred feet or so, just coasting on air. Amazing, Seal.
Which bird are you?
The Parable of the Bait Fish
Which one am I?
The bait fish are the experiences of everyday of our life. The moments of our life. It is these which feed us, letting us learn what we need to live and thrive and grow. This sustenance isn't handed to us on a silver platter, we need to get out there and live our lives, to allow our experiences to affect us, see them in the light of God. Daily.
And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, Romans 12
The Osprey sees all that happens every moment, but doesn't get involved. They work hard to rise up, but then they coast. They have the most power, but what good is that if they separate themselves from others and isolate themselves from experiences. They have put a lot of space between themselves and the bait fish.
The Pelican is drawn to the moments in life. They have good intentions, but they stop short. They like where they are, it worked before. Why leave the group to follow the bait fish? Don't look too closely or think too profoundly, or you will notice things have changed.
The Seagulls just do it (with apologies to Nike.) They are a community, one where each member is independent and at the same time dependent. Some are eating, some coasting, some going closer to the food, some flying away. Round and round. One gull showed the others the bait fish originally, they all benefit. One gull sees the bait fish move, goes there, the rest see this, realize he is right and slowly follow. Calling to each other. Communicating. Helping each other grow.
They aren't elegant or methodical. They don't worry about the distant future, they simply follow the sustenance. They follow the source of life. One step at a time.
Where the Streets have No Name, U2.
PS
Mike has just entered the room, and I told him I thought up a parable.
I told him the title, Parable of the Bait Fish
He has his own story to go along with the title,
Be the fish, not the bait.
You gotta love him.
