I woke thinking about water and erosion. Reflecting on what I woke thinking, I think more. How many kinds of erosion might there be, how many kinds of water. I woke thinking about the sea, in particular, the sea and rocks, sand, gravel, waves both lapping and crashing. I have been to the ocean and seas in several places. I visited the gravel beaches of southern England, I stepped out into the Atlantic Ocean in Florida and in New Jersey. I walked along the shore in western Newfoundland and in Vancouver, British Columbia. I lost my breath watching the Bay of Fundy tide rise, quick and so deep! I walked along the sand at Schevenegen In Holland and I visited the Pacific Ocean again in California. I have seen a Mediterranean beach in Greece, Adriatic beach in Italy, Caribbean beaches in Mexico and Florida. Those are wildly different places but in every case, it is rock being broken, shaped and ground to sand by water and fellow rocks. I am amazed and grateful that I have been to all of those places, seen all of that power, observed magnificence.
Who knew that a little boy from Grass Lake, Michigan would ever see the ocean? Who knew I would witness power? At the shore of my hometown’s namesake lake, there is very little erosion and few rocks. Most of that little town’s erosion comes during a heavy rain and we had to bring the sand in by truck. Grass Lake is a wide spot in a creek, really. It is shallow, mucky, reed choked and full of life, full with nearly stagnant water. Mosquitos, minnows, pike, perch, frogs, water beetles, dragon flies and a million little birds disquiet any calm summer day. Erosion might be a dream of the water, there. Yeah, the water probably wishes it were an ocean, lifting rocks and smashing them to bits, making as much noise as all that wildlife.
I have been a few other places and seen other erosion. I have been a lot of places, really and seen lots of erosion. There was wind erosion in Arizona and Nevada. The desert sand shaped towers out of rock there. Where there were hills, sand pushed by wind scraped away the loose stuff and left the hard core standing. Wind is powerful as water. Combined with the rock they push, water and wind smash everything eventually. It is as though someone? or something? had said, “Let there be small stuff out of big stuff and let the smooth stuff make it so!” Ha.
Of course, I am leading up to something here, aren’t I? “Let there be small stuff made of big stuff and let smooth stuff make it so….”
See you in a bit. Lots to do today, I am enroute for Niagara Falls and the Day Of One Thousand Musicians. Yep. 999 musicians and one poser. I will have the guitar and I can play some of the chords, so I am going to stand in the park and make noise. I will make noise like the ocean and the rocks and the wind.
Robert On The Air 