It is Movement which allows us to understand that we are alive.

Sitting by the edge of the Coral Sea,

looking out over the ocean,

watching the waves roll towards the shore,

listening to the sound of their gentle susurration.

I watched the stately climb of the near-full moon

as she rose from behind Hinchinbrook Island.

It struck me that it was not the moon which rose,

but the Earth which turned to meet her,

and I looked at this beautiful place where I live

with fresh eyes.

I’ve always been drawn to the water.

Specifically, to moving water.

Ocean, rivers, deep lakes.

I’m a watery person.

I cry when I am happy.

I cry when I am angry.

I cry when I am overwhelmed or hurting or

when I see or hear things of great beauty,

but today I didn’t cry.

I simply sat,

watched the waves,

felt the wind,

and experienced the earth turn,

allowing me,

this insignificant being,

to face the moon, to glory in her beauty,

to place my worries into context

within the immensity of life.

And recognise that I am, after all, so very glad to be alive.