Article Source: The Positive Observer

Written by - James Sorrells

I often reflect back to the many journeys I traversed across the Isle of St. Simons. As was my daily ritual, I would awake sometime before the hour of five AM. Regardless of the day within the year or even the season, it was important to begin my exploration right about this hour.  For at this hour, the sounds and activities of the island are unknown to most of the human inhabitants who live there.

Before the First Flickering Light

It has been said that the day is the coldest right before the first flickering light of the morning sun.  Maybe… But each individual chooses their own perspectives with each passing experience. This unique hour within a day is the hour of unexplainable vibrance that carries with it a subtle level of energy and awareness.  There is an exciting fluctuation of stillness and celebration…of clarity and uncertainty…and in the sharing of stories that are the foundation of this island.

The Elders of the Island

Though there was still nocturnal darkness around me from the previous day’s evening veil, I was always assured that my every footstep would be guided and I would be protected.  You see, there are guardians or elders embedded throughout this island and the islands that surround it. Their extensive “reach” is incomparable to any other. My journeys throughout their community served as educating moments for me.  I would be awarded the opportunity to have the “elders” of the island enlighten me with their rich history of events and growth. I would be spoken to and touched by shadows and strongholds that built the island over the centuries.  Each elder I passed by and under would share a little more of their own childhood and adolescence with me. Such experiences were revealed through their shapes…their garments and their spirits.  Often, the early years were shared by other human and non-human inhabitants alike. Reflections of nature’s progress, of early explorers and their pathways, of man’s attempts to claim residence on this land, of gatherings and sermons and even the many generations of children and the games they played out beneath the  canopies…each encounter building a stronger community for all to live within.  I would strive to cradle each shared story and add it to my own developing repertoire of experiences. Nature’s stories are grounded in all of us, but rarely do we choose to take notice of how we are touched by them.

The Heart of the Isle

My senses were always elevated during these morning travels as I traversed the many roads and trails of the island. My favorite journeys were those where the only source of light was from the coastal moon and other natural illuminations, not from artificial sources. The center or heart of the Isle of St. Simons provided this kind of presentation for me as I often traveled to the north end of the island. The presentation and degree of light would often vary upon my return back to the southern end of the island depending on the season of the year.  During the seasons of extended daylight hours, I was awarded an even higher level of arousal as the shadows of the elders began to gain definition and physical depth as the morning light would begin to touch them. Often, as was the case on the Isle of St. Simons, the first flickers of light would struggle to find their way to the surface of the earth as they were met by hints of morning fog that filled the air.  Despite the coverage, the faces of deer, egrets, reptiles and even the faces embedded in the bark and moss of the trees would come into view. Always for a moment…just a moment, the breeze would stop.  Congruency was the task at hand between what was and what was becoming. The elders would smile and the day would begin.  Their fury gray beards and veils would again begin to move effortlessly in the moment. Often, I would catch a glimpse of the soothing colors of wisteria as it would weave its lavender feathering amongst the roadside.

The Water's Edge

Sometimes my routes would carry me from the interior of the isle to the water’s edge. As one will find on the Isle of St. Simons, the journey taken will often bring one by the water’s edge along the many marshes that fortify the island as well as the reaching edges of the Atlantic Ocean. If I was lucky enough to meet the ocean at the first renderings of the approaching sun, then I would sometimes catch a few horseshoe crabs still making their way back to the security of water.  Often, there was a level of uncertainty on the actual identity of shadows along the water’s edge unless I placed myself in direct vicinity of the object in question. But that is known as exploration…of being curious and reaching beyond aspects of what is known to you for the sake of experience. Upon discovery of the source of shadows along the water I would again gain new insights and stories of the essence of this land and the contributions each has offered to build this sanctuary. In these moments, one can look over their shoulder and take notice of the elders watching this very experience of man, nature and the sea greeting one another and in peaceful solitude. The elders hold firm their protection, observance and their reach over all of this wonder, just as they have over the centuries of time.