Another gorgeous sunrise this morning.
It comes a bit later now, and Mary and I arrived at the beach, McDonald's coffee in hand, with more than enough time to plop down onto the sand and breathe in the fresh air of the new day before the morning light spectacular began.
I can never sit there for long, though, pulled by unseen, magical forces to the waves' edge, keeping a child-like wondrous eye on the rolling water as it seeps between my toes while at the same time admiring the breathtaking oceanic panorama surrounding me on all sides.
The ongoing search for the perfect sea shell is also a part of my sunrise-watching routine, but there is not one thing routine about any of it. Every sunrise, every cloud formation, every sky-and-water color, is different moment to moment.
Caution: Bend over to pick up a shell, or hunt for the elusive-yet-highly-coveted shark's tooth, and you miss something. Something indescribably, soul-filling awesome.
In fact, you can get so caught up in looking down that you can miss the very part of the sun's rising that is, perhaps, the most inspiring.
Or, as Mary so aptly put it, "Don't concentrate so hard on finding the shark's tooth, that you miss the shark."
Perhaps a good question for each of us to ask ourselves, no matter where we live, be it near a beach, a shopping mall or a cornfield is this:
Are we striving so ardently, eyes narrowed and so hyper-focused on perfection -- in our personal relationships, our jobs, etc. -- that we are overlooking the imperfectly perfect beauty of what is smack dab in front of us, above us, or at either side?
Just a little sea food for thought this glorious Thursday morning.