verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


It's been awhile.  A lot has gone on.

It's been hard to know what to say or write and sometimes nothing is better than something.

I am looking at the magnificent power of the ocean and its relentless commitment to the shore.  No matter what, the tide comes in and no matter what, the tide goes back out.  This constancy contradicts itself as it becomes the birthplace of all change.  Some tides bring gentle sweeps, and yet others provoke monumental shifts.  I am at a loss for words in the face of the ocean's steadfastness, and its indifference.

This week was like that.  As if a sudden wave crashing on the sand, we tragically lost Nick and instinctively relived past losses.  Broken hearts, re-broken. On another day, a happy reunion unfolded.  Some days took so long to finish and other days not nearly long enough. Reunions, celebrations, births, funerals...The recklessness of such change is only anchored by the constancy of day and night--each day ends and another begins, no matter what.  Its indifference is sometimes a blessing.


  1. A beautifully written piece. I especially like the line about the ocean's "relentless commitment to the shore." So very sorry for your loss. There's just no way to prepare our hearts for the void that follows.

  2. Yes, beautifully written, Alice. I've always been impressed by the depth of your writings. Very nice blog.