Beachcomber

Here we are where the ocean meets the land, a long beach sheltered by cliffs. We have the beach all to ourselves tonight, a special privilege. The sun is setting, and the ocean is beginning to shade from gold to pink. Let's take a stroll and get to know this special place a little better. Before we set out, I always like to do a little wind-down exercise. Tonight's exercise is a really simple breathing exercise. So when you're ready, let's begin. First, get comfortable in your bed. Now just bringing the attention to the breath. Just noticing where you feel it in the nose, the throat, the chest, the diaphragm. You're nice and relaxed. We're gonna be taking a deep breath in for four, holding it for four, and then breathing out for six. So are you ready? Let's begin. In for four, two, three, four. Hold it for four, two, three, four. Now breathing out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding it for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding it for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. Brilliant, now returning the breath to normal. Let's go down the steps, these old concrete steps, solid concrete with a solid wooden rail, down to where they meet the sand of the beach. The sun is setting out in the ocean, and the shadows are growing longer. It's dusk, here, on the western edge of the world. It's the perfect evening for a walk on the beach. The waves are washing in, gently washing over the beach, and then flowing back out again. It's like a giant breath, breathing gently in and breathing out again. The sand is gray and yellow, and darker where it's wet, and the foam on the waves is white as cotton wool. It rises at the crests of the waves, and the waves fall onto the beach, crash. The waves run in and then rush out again, with a whoosh. There is wood scattered all over this beach, washed up by the ocean. Driftwood, sticks and branches that have been blown from trees. And the bark has been stripped from the branches as it rolls in the surf against the beach's pebbles. So the bark is gone, and underneath the wood is white. The pieces come in all different shapes and sizes, some curved, some straight, some flat, and some narrow. This piece looks like an ear. This piece looks like a loaf of French bread, but you wouldn't want to bite into it. This piece would make an excellent talking stick. Families come down to the beach on warm afternoons, and children have made little sculptures out of the driftwood. Someone has stacked a great big pile on...