One could describe the atmosphere in
There is a lot of history on the property where I live, in one of four cottages, located on a cove with a beautiful view of the
Upon first hearing the story of the Unknown Soldier I was captivated. I had to go see him for myself. When entering the graveyard we find it is in devastating condition due in part to neglect and the forces of nature. Debris and boulders are strewn everywhere, an indication of very high powerful surfs. It’s amazing that the bay hasn’t washed it away over the 218 years it’s been there. Somehow it has survived. The Unknown Soldier, this British Officer, I wonder from time to time just who he was, somebody’s son, brother, husband or father. Was his death recorded from whatever ship he came from? If he had family, were they made aware of his death? Or did someone live in hopes of his returning home to them? Maybe some day the answers will reveal themselves. For now, the Unknown Soldier remains an unsolved mystery.
The memory of that day still haunts me from time to time, with the most recent time while writing this piece. From where I sit writing this, I can see the stand of thick evergreens that encompasses the little graveyard. The spot where I write at is our old trestle table that sits next to a wall of windows. These windows overlook the beach and the cove. During my daylight writing hours the view inspires me, brings me peace, takes my breath away and keeps me in the now. At night there is no view. There is nothing to see beyond the windows but darkness. One can still hear the tides as they rise and fall. One can still hear the surf as it pounds the beach and in its own way brings its own beauty. When writing this article, during the nighttime hours, I won’t deny that my attention was periodically drawn to look through these windows … out into the darkness … in the direction of the graveyard. I think I’d have to say it felt a bit unsettling.
As I sit here in this moment, the tide is out, the seabed lays naked and exposed. It is the beginning of twilight and soon the blue hour will follow, then, darkness will silently slide in and swallow the world whole. There is no wind. All is still, as if Mother Nature is holding her breath, waiting for darkness to fall and for the mighty
You can always find me … at the next high tide.