Descending the gritty staircase carpeted with wet maple leave, I can hear the hush of waves getting closer.
I scale wind and water smoothed logs and hoist myself onto a boulder at the edge of land and sea.
I look out into the grey fog.
Sea and sky are blurred.
With my beads, I mumble the Jesus Prayer 100 times.
Meanwhile, the ocean eternally laps at my feet.
Stones imperceptibly lose their edges as the sea pulls them closer to her.
Gulls and cormorants fade into being from the right and then the left.
Slosh and crash…Slosh and crash in stochastic eternity.
Fog horn bellows punctuate my contemplation and the waves.
I begin to climb the gritty staircase once more, the hush of waves getting dimmer.