Sometimes there are no words. There is simply an image to allow in.

When I’m at home, after showering and breakfast, it’s time to explore the world. I stand beside my bed and put on shirt and pants. My eyes are looking towards the ensuite bathroom and the photograph on the wall. It’s a ritual for me, and in the three years since I moved to Belmont, the experience has deepened.

It’s not just unconscious buttoning. It’s gazing towards another ocean. It’s glimpsing another realm of the spirit.

Outstretched. Beckoning. Including.

There is a stillness as the tail reaches its highest point, and a yearning for the surge downward. There is strength. There are the curves of nature and the wonder of water all around. There are the drips falling down to rejoin the sea.

The image hushes my breath every time. No life lessons come easily at such moments but I know that standing quietly and looking softly are important. Someone broader than me knows what’s happening. I’ll just continue to revel in the salute, the blessing and the photographer’s eye.