Returning to Source

Belemnite Fragments

Today I picked up a squid, or what was left of him.  These fragments are called Belemnites and are 135 million years old.  They unearth themselves from the shale and often are just lying in the hills, waiting to be discovered.  Standing there on the trail, something called to me, as if there was still a heart beating, a presence calling to be returned to water.  I felt it pull inside of me the yearning of this small piece desperate to be reunited with the elements it was born into.  It was as if the thirst still resided in the bones I held, the ghost of its yearning, caught for hundreds and thousands of years in dust, was pulsating out to me, its desire to be deep within the ocean tangible.  I imagined the way it might feel, the first cold splash replenishing every molecule, a quenching of need so complete it would be like resting in a kind of oblivion to feel the water permeating its hardened shell.  

I couldn’t bear to bring it back with me, to deposit it in a jar with the other fragments I’ve collected, just to claim it as my own.  So, I brought it to the waters and released it.  The next day, I went hiking again and promised any squid who were willing to be found a quick release back into the water.  Within ten minutes, I found over thirty fragments.  Thirsty little creatures.  I cleaned them up and made my own creation with them, mimicking a squid fossil imprint I happened upon.  And then, then I brought them to the creek and released them slowly.

It was hard to return them.  I wanted to put them on a shelf, admire them more, keep them for my own, but that isn’t the promise I made.  In the end, creating and then letting go was its own gift.  Returning to source, reunited with my most elemental nature, I envision the possibility of feeling equally complete.  My next book will be about water: the deep mystery of diving into the unknown, the sweet relief of being embraced in its depths, the freedom I feel as I dive into rolling waves, the lull of sirens, the chaos of storms, and, of course, all of the creatures lurking under the surface.