Unpredictable Puddles In Our World

THE ENTIRE WORLD MUST BE SHAKEN by the unfathomable destruction caused by the 8.9 magnitude quake in the coastal area of Japan and the subsequent tsunamis that swept away everything in its path. Houses and cars looked like toys in the grip of the monster wave that spread across the Pacific Ocean. My sympathy went to the victims as I watched the televised images in horror from faraway coastal BC. Occurring only weeks after the earthquake in Christchurch, NZ, it is yet another tragic reminder that life can change in an instant. The fragile nature of our existence is all too clear during such times.

Parts of coastal BC that are not in my area were included in the tsunamis aftermath warnings. Such events remind me some seismic experts say a major destructive quake will likely happen in our lifetimes in BC. It seems trivial now that just last week my thoughts were only on spring during my visit to Crescent Beach in South Surrey. According to my gopher-esque shadow (pictured above) and the engraving in a rock about low tides, the warmer season is near.

I was far from imagining an earthquake or a wall of water rolling indifferently over homes, people and animals. In my world, the sun cast a harmless blanket of silver sheen over unruffled waters. The sunshine and calm were an exception to the chilly rain and gusty winds we experienced most of the week.

Some grasses were not as frail as they looked. Their flexible stems helped them survive the winter.

I was glad that the weather-beaten beach would soon be regenerated.

There was barely a breeze to move the slender grasses.

Their deceptively delicate natures were both elastic and sturdy as steel.

Puffs of clouds hung like faint cotton balls on the blue rim of Semiahmoo Bay.

The sky, receding water and rocky shore were peaceful but unpredictable. From a distance I saw large puddles had formed within the gooey sand.

I envisioned my daughter's Penelope Puddle creation, with her little umbrella, fitting into some idyllic Crescent Beach scene. That old saying, every path has its puddle, has special meaning in my world where the fictional character frequently comes alive in my mind as I wander.

I was blissfully unaware of the Japan earthquake to come. I could not foresee what would happen on March 11th. But as stories from suffering and shocked victims emerge, the dignified strength and quiet resilience of survivors is clear. Much like slender grasses trampled on a beach, it seems safe to predict the people will reenergize and reconstruct to tread brighter paths in the future.

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