Joy in Animas

CHASING DOWN THE MUSE

Animas: the soul, the true inner self that reflects archetypal

ideals in psychology. It is also the bay of the same name in Baja

California. On a post-holiday camping trip to Animas Bay, my own

inner and outer selves embraced in joy.

Egrets -- they stand among the mangroves like white flowers and

then in an instant begin to dance. The dance is a staccato thing --

small bursts as if to dazzle their prey into submission. That was

yesterday, in the sunlight. Today dawns in light gray cloud cover.

The breeze -- light, but constant and cold -- lifts the tent flaps in

their own little dance. Out in the Sea of Cortez, I can hear the

sound of a motor, but here on our spit of sand there are only the

sounds of gulls and curlew and the far-off bark of a dog. This is all

too good. This is my joy.

In films, an opening shot is that tiny crack that brings us from

our everyday world into the world of the film -- of its moments. As a

writer and artist, it is not always enough to simply experience the

moments in which I am full and joy filled. I want to open the tiny

crack -- to share these moments with another. I want to share them

with you.

It is not enough to just notice things like the last pink light of

day reflecting off rock hilltops or the ripple on the water left by

the jump of a fish or shadows that creep over grassy hills, caressing

them in late afternoon. It is not always enough to hear the roar of

Pacific surf or the soft, rhythmic lapping of waves on a sand spit in

Animas Bay; not sufficient to hear the high, clear piping whistle of

the oystercatcher or the short two-syllable rising sound of the

long-billed curlew calling out its own name as it picks through the

sandy marshes.

Can I impart to you the warmth of the sun on my face as it rises

in cool morning air? Or the quickening of my heart as I hear the

clattering call of a belted kingfisher deep in the mangroves? How do

I describe the feeling of time and no time that takes over where I am

lost in one long stretching moment in a place between heaven and

earth?

What do I say that conveys the privilege I feel to be 10 feet from

a young brown booby -- usually found farther offshore -- sharing its

grooming ritual with my greedy eyes? Is it possible to let you know

what it’s like to just for a moment want to BE the fuzzy

yellow-headed pelican as it swoops long and low over the white crests

of the waves?

How can I show you the moon being chased across a dawn sky by the

relentless sun? Or share with you a New Year’s Eve on the beach

filled with music and laughter, bottle rockets and going to bed sated

after caviar and capers, fillets and fresh salmon?

The sun is rising behind the hilltops across the bay. It casts

dusty shafts of light through low openings in the horizon line.

Reflected light colors pools of standing water in the clamshell beds

at the edge of the sea. On hills behind me, the light is still

brighter, reaching there before we can fully see the sun itself here

on the sand spit where we are camped. Three small ducks fly low over

the water with a whirring of wings. The tide is receding, and

oystercatchers, gulls, pelicans, ducks, the curlews, grebes, reddish

egrets and one lone green heron all find places to forage. A plethora

of joy!

As we rise on this last day here, I am moved to capture each

creature, every nuance of the place where we are. I am impelled to

catch what is going on both inside and outside of myself. Something

is changing. Something is shifting as I cross back and forth between

before and now, between worlds. Because of each of these exquisite

moments, I will be different, and who knows where that might lead?

This is the great joy of embracing life and being fully connected.

And I want to share it with you.

* CHERRIL DOTY is a creative living coach, writer, artist and

walker who lives and works in Laguna Beach. Contact her by e-mail at

[email protected] or by phone at (949) 251-3883. Your thoughts and

questions are appreciated.