Philologos wrote:
For you the beaches. And I know that from eg the beach near Fearn, but back in the day the beaches in bicycle range of New Haven were not conducive, so for me the woods. Staring up at the sky through the branches rather than seeing the waves.
But the sense is the same.
I like that. After I left the beaches, through my career, I was fortunate to have a backyard pointed toward the woods, away from any hint of civilization. Sometimes a sea of grass and my patio as boat was refuge and a place for sanctity. Sometimes my wife asked, why do you just sit there and stare at the greenery.
We had a huge majestic oak in our yard that gave me a sense of awe and strength as I watched it grow taller. A hurricane destroyed the tree, and I was amazed how much I could miss a tree. It was a joy in my life I didn't think would go away. After the tree was removed, I was surprised at how open and large the sky was; it gave me the same sense of awe and strength.
Sanctity, a gift that I remember, unlike no other. I wonder, today, how many people ever experience it in a lifetime. It is evident to me that some keep the gift into their 70's, 80's, and 90's. I think you can see it in their eyes.
I remember a story you pointed me to regarding was it heaven or hell? It was heaven; it's still all around me; I just can't seem to connect to it anymore.