Cape of Light and Emptiness…cont'd

"There is no interpretive center, no signs, no boardwalk. It is a rare find and a gift in this day and age of development gone mad. Make of it what you want. Make all of the discoveries yourself. "

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Streams flow into the sea at Cap-Lumiére contribute to the ever changing naure of the shore.

This whole shore is riddled with inlets and small streams that all meander their way to the ocean at this particular spot. Wind and water do their job shaping and reshaping the sand dunes as well as the sand bars that lie a little way offshore. Every time we come here, the contours of the beach have changed some, the forces of weather here being powerful and sometimes downright wrathful making the interface of sand and water sculptural and dynamic.

A lot of a beach's spirit is determined by its waves and here they're vigorous and loud. This is a beach for people who are kinesthetic, who like to feel the envigorating force of the elements. But on a hot summer day at low tide Cap-Lumiére has a gentler side. The water is warm, and the waves are strong and can massage, are therapeutic and the hot sun casts a sleepy spell.

A world at your feet

We only visit, but what lives here? Birds, seaweed and sea plants, insects, little fish and crustaceans all populate the beach. There are different kinds of seaweed, more than I've seen on other beaches—long thick brown pieces that have ruffled edges like lasagna, seaweed that looks like shredded paper and seaweed that has little air-filled bladders that pop like bubble wrap when you press on them. After a storm, all of these are washed ashore in a jumble, like some tangled salad.

You can make a day at Cap-Lumiére be whatever you want it to be, and wander along its shore as long as you want to. There is no interpretive center, no signs, no boardwalk. It is a rare find and a gift in this day and age of development gone mad. Make of it what you want. Make all of the discoveries yourself.

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Seaweed washed up on the beach can cover large swaths
Empty of human imprint

It gets me wondering, though, what's so good about solitude and lack of human imprint? Sure its fun to be packed onto a sandy shore with sunbathers, running and laughing children and sometimes their pets. You can people watch, smell the sunscreen and catch the tide of excitement and activity like a ride a Coney Island. That's a different kind of beach, a different state of mind. Emptiness offers something altogether different.

I read an article recently about the over-scheduling of our children. Nowadays, you're considered a bad parent if you don't fill your child's free time with activities, lessons, sports and play dates. The article went on to say that kids need unstructured, alone time to regroup and tap into themselves otherwise they become overstimulated, scattered and ultimately shallow with no inner resources to draw on.

We grownups need that too but get less and less of it all the time. That's why a solitary walk on an empty beach becomes so important. At Cap-Lumiére Archie and I go our separate ways, following or pausing to observe what attracts us be it small, low flying plovers feeding in the seaweed, tiny hermit crabs you can pick up in your hand, interesting shells and rocks, beach peas or the view that's just beyond the curved shore ahead. Later, our paths merge and we'll continue along together the rhythm different now.

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There is a lot of life on a beach. Cap-Lumiére, with its marshes, has more than most.
A place for solitude

Solitude gives an opportunity to explore our connections with other people by their very absence. We have a social identity, a way of being when we're with other people. In solitude this persona fades, we see more clearly other aspects of ourselves, a more authentic self. Being alone is not the same as being isolated or lonely. It can be healing and delicious.

When alone on this beach and in other remote natural places, sometimes prickles come on the back of my neck, like there is a presence. Like the place is saturated with spirit. It can be felt, but not so easily described. It makes me feel expansive and connected.

In a work of art, defining shapes is important, but so is defining what is between those shapes, the empty space without which the work would be meaningless, chaotic. My time at Cap-Lumiére is that space in between that helps me define my life. It gives me clarity and an awareness of what is and what isn't.








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