As the tide approached its lowest point, Algy perched on a rock at the end of the north beach, surro
As the tide approached its lowest point, Algy perched on a rock at the end of the north beach, surrounded by masses of slippery seaweed. Like a wee, eager child, Algy was feeling very excited because it was almost his birthday, and in his mind he was planning all the details of his party on Saturday, which he hopes to share with many of his Tumblr friends. But he was acutely aware that for some of his friends - those who have been most closely affected by the grim realities of the Covid pandemic, whether through their work, through personal loss and grief, or through serious illness - this could not be a time for jollity and fun, and he hoped very much that those friends would forgive and understand his carefree birthday celebrations on tumblr, for there were other friends whose lives were in need of the colour, hope and joy of a happy party…Staring at the endless succession of waves washing bundles of drifting seaweed up on the beach, Algy thought of all those friends who would not be joining his party this year, and he hoped that those who were still being tossed on the desolate seas, or who were “drifting, drifting, drifting on the shifting currents of the restless main”, would at least be able to find a sheltered cove and respose again:When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda’s reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing, Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas; — Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless main; Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again. [Algy is quoting the first four stanzas of the poem Seaweed by the 19th century American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.] -- source link
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