I can't help feeling a slight tremor when I look at surf, rocks and sand as they are here. I have always had a healthy respect for waves. I can easily imagine myself drawn into the waves and being tossed around in the water before being pulled under. Ghoulish? No, I don't think so. More I think, a healthy respect and a reminder to myself to keep a safe distance.
I've never thought of myself as a courageous person. But nor do I believe I lack courage. I just don't go looking for crazy risks. Having a vivid imagination I've always found myself shrinking from some challenges that others embraced. Maybe they don't have an imagination as well developed as mine?
It occurs to me that there are other ways to show courage than to take unnecessary risks. You can accept necessary risks and work to overcome them. You can disagree with a majority viewpoint and face the fallout. You can walk into a room full of strangers and introduce yourself. You can listen to your conscience and stand your ground. You can walk tall when you feel small inside. You can choose to persist when others would fold. You can press on with your dreams when there is no one else to share them. You can share your dreams when there is someone to share them with. You can reach out to someone else and risk rejection. You can be very afraid but decide to do it (whatever it is) anyway.
It occurs to me all of us can be courageous in the ways that count.
Son-in-law and granddaughter feeling the water and sand between their toes.
She trusts him. He honours her trust. This is truth; maybe all the truth I will ever need. Those of us who stood nearby and watched this scene on the beach were privy to something beautiful.
It occurs to me that there are all sorts of ways we can trust, or fail to trust. As a young child it's easy. Not always so when we're bigger. We grow callouses, thick and impervious, each time our trust is betrayed. If we're honest, we know we've betrayed the trust of others now and then. How good would it be to live with trust?
How good would it be to honour the trust others have in us, without fail.
It occurs to me trust can be a good thing. . . . Maybe it's worth the risk?
Ok, so one small person doesn't appear too delighted here. Flapping wings around the face are not guaranteed to bring a smile. She loved it though. I'm sure she did. At least she would have later, when we had left the bird park, and she had had time to process it all.
The sheer delight of mother, daughter, son-in-law and toddler in being together doesn't always need to be expressed in smiles, but it was (mostly) here. We remember times like these for good reason. They remind us of what is important; of value that is enduring. The delight is intangible. The reality is rock solid.
It occurs to me that delight is to be found unexpectedly, and if we're not careful we can miss it even when it's staring us in the face.
And the final photo.
Rainbow Lorikeets bringing delight, pure and simple, into the heart of this lucky photographer.