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Posted on:  Aug 9, 2015 @ 10:00 Posted in:  From the Tale
My feet lead me to the weathered boardwalk that meanders alongside Ganges’s waterfront. A salty, moisture-laden wind dampens my face and hair, and serenades me with a melancholy, clanking tune strummed on the sailboat halyards. The slate gray sky, congealed into a cloak of mean-looking vapors, extends downward to the choppy, black-tinged ocean waters; each seems to be vying with the other to perfect their expressive malaise. Gulls swoop and screech in the threatening shadow of an overhead bald eagle.
I walk a short distance and then stop to rest my elbows on the walkway railing; its surface is cracked and faded to a dull, gray-brown from exposure to the unrelenting elements.
Everything in nature was beautiful to my Opa, from the yellow-on-yellow of a dandelion basking in the summer sun to the brown sludge of rotting, late-autumn leaves. Even the tufts of grass reaching through the cracks in the schoolyard pavement elicited his admiration.
“Look, Sarah,” he said one afternoon when I was playing hopscotch at a school near his home, “Under this hard, hard concrete, little seeds dig their roots into the brown soil and stretch their green arms to the sun. All around us Mother Nature gifts us with Her acts of beauty. Even a tiny blade of grass can remind us that life is lovely and good, and can make us feel better when we are hurt or sad.”
What would Opa Kass notice if he was here with me now?
With renewed vision, I take in the subtle shades of smoky gray and mauve in the textured folds of the clouds. From the boat riggings, the staccato cries of a blue-crested bird ring out before it dives headlong, streaking downward, like a feathered bullet, into the frothing waves. Close to shore I spot schools of tiny, silver fish, flashing like bits of captured sunlight, and a large, blue-purple crab scuttling sideways between rocks festooned with starfish in hues of soft purple, pink and orange.