The small things bellow the tides
by Stephanie Brown
I lived in Lantzville up until this time last year and although I no longer get my mail to a V0R2H0 address I am still considered a Lantzville resident enough to work with the 1st Lantzville Brownies. Each week I am lucky enough to spend an hour and a half with these girls as they teach me to enjoy the simple things in life and to always spare time for play.
The first meeting of March was a snowy, grey meeting night and of course we had planned an outdoor walk to see how the seasons affect our lives. We made a loop through lower Lantzville down along the beach and up through Huddlestone park; but it was down on the beach where our trip turned from a nature walk to a natural wonder. While looking at birds’ nests and shells, as the light of the day rapidly disappeared, we worked tirelessly to move the fifteen girls along at a brisk pace. Then someone looked out into the water in the dimming twilight and saw a seal launch out of the water. We peered through the mist for a long time wondering if it was a large fish or a seal, thinking all along it must have been a seal but never being quite sure. It was a seal. The girls started singing out to the ocean in the fading light of day as the flurries and rain wiggled their way into mittens and rain coats. The plummeting temperatures of early March were all but forgotten as we all peered into the misty expanse, searching for the dark shapes to break the surface. Each time a seal playfully jumped into the air, obviously checking out the commotion and the source of the high pitched song, the girls would shout and point in joy. We all stood there until the last of the days light was consumed by the horizon, none of us really having a concept for how much time actually passed, as the rocks held us on the edge of the sea and gave us a stage to sing the song three times over.
It is the small things we don’t get to stop and witness, or rather we don’t make a point of witnessing, in life that I am privileged to be reminded of on a weekly basis by these young girls. I have always believed that they teach me just as much as I teach them and this night was yet another instance. It was cold, wet, and dark down there on the beach, we were the only souls for miles on the water’s edge, but taking those minutes to enjoy something you just don’t get to experience every day brightens the darkest night, warms the coldest of hearts, and dry’s the tears from the sadness that life sometimes faces us with. I may have been making up the whole thing when I told them singing to the seals will make them jump more but I am sure glad it worked.