Waters Edge Gift

WATERS EDGE GIFT

“Some gifts are wrapped in silence, carried on the wind, and left at the water’s edge for those who know how to listen.” - Old Mountain Saying.

Like the quote implies, sometimes, the smallest things carry the loudest

truths, much like a driftwood fragment, a spark of energy, and the birth of a new voice retrieved by diving into unknown waters.

My discovery came at a time of need, perfectly captured by the saying, ‘Change is as good as a rest.’ This phrase could not have come at a better moment, just as my sister invited me to spend a few weeks with her and my other sister at the other end of the country. After a car accident and the strain of work, I was more than ready for a change of pace.

It all began in an idyllic, peaceful camp setting overlooking the tranquil lake located high in the mountains of BC. The property belonged to my sister, and the idea of spending some time visiting the site was perfect!

The moment I arrived at the property site, I felt the weight I’d been carrying begin to lift. The air was crisp, scented with pine trees mixed with cedar and damp earth, and the lake shimmered like glass beneath the late afternoon sun. It felt like a place that promised stillness, and perhaps, something more. Being surrounded by nature and taking in all that it offered turned out to be precisely what I needed, as it brought with it the kind of peace and harmony that could heal wounds to a weary soul.

Unbeknownst to me, a remarkable energy connection was about to occur after finding what could only be labelled as an extraordinary gift that had washed up from the shores of the beautiful lake. It wasn’t large or flashy, but it was smoothed by time and water, resting half-buried in the sand.

During this much-needed break from my busy reality back home, I became immersed in a magical call to nature’s energy. It was a force so profound it filled me with the kind of awe that still lingers today. This experience became a gateway to explore my inner thoughts and imagination set against a wilderness where life and tranquillity intertwine in breathtaking beauty beyond imagination.

Settling into this enchanting energy voyage began with a quick trek into the surrounding campsite area, gently introducing the natural beauty that lay ahead and whetting the appetite for all that the coming days might offer. At the time, my mind was still weary, and it took a moment for the peace and serenity of this charming setting to sink into my full awareness. Sensing this, my sisters insisted on a quick tour of our surroundings.

As the heaviness of heart began to lift, I found myself standing in what felt like a small corner of Eden. The first taste of solitude wrapped around me gently, and I became lost in nature’s alluring charm. I was genuinely captivated from that moment onward.

Majestic mountains served as the backdrop to a splendid view of the peaceful lake, which cradled the campsite property like a secret held close by nature itself. I had to admit that I was falling in love with that little lake. Thankfully, exploring its shores and the surrounding area was high on our list for the sunshine-filled days ahead.

In the blink of an eye, I became fully immersed in all the sights and sounds of the surrounding woods. The rustle of leaves, the whisper of wind through the pines, and the distant call of birds wove a web of intrigue that pulled me deeper into nature’s embrace. It was so compelling and enchanting that one couldn’t help but become spellbound by the tantalizing notions of forest life. Whether imagined or real, such intriguing energy danced just beyond the edge of my perception.

Frankly, while encountering such a setting, I could not stop talking about the possibilities of what the forest trees would have to say if they could speak. It was at this point that both my sisters thought I was getting lost in a fog somewhere out of reach of reality, and perhaps I was. Still, it was the kind of fog I didn’t mind wandering through, hungering for something new and unexplored to take attention off a fret-filled mind of worry.

Later in the day, after a stimulating morning hike, it was time for a mid-afternoon stroll along the lake’s beachfront. A gentle breeze drifted across the water, cooling the air and adding to the serenity of the moment. As I walked, my eyes were drawn to a strange-looking object nestled among the pebbles, seemingly half-buried in the sand at the water's edge.

My sister had been the first to point it out, thinking it might intrigue me. Perhaps my earlier “babbling in the woods,” as she called it, had convinced her I’d find it interesting. She couldn’t have been more spot on.

Filled with fascination, I felt a natural pull to investigate further. At first glance, it appeared to be a small piece of driftwood, albeit ordinary, weathered and unassuming. But something about it felt different, as though it had a story waiting to be told.

Captivated by the unusual shape, small size, and dull-gray coating of the driftwood, I eagerly picked it up for a closer look. Though it was merely a lifeless piece of wood, I held it close to my heart for a moment, treating it as a nature-born treasure; something quietly sacred in my estimation.

As I turned it over in my hand, brushing away bits of sand and dirt, something unexpected happened. My heart quickened. A strange awareness stirred within me as I slowly became aware of a faint, almost imperceptible vibration that seemed to pulse from the driftwood. It was subtle, like a whisper beneath the skin, yet unmistakably genuine as something unfamiliar.

I gave myself over to the moment, fully present and mindful, and soon became aware of tuning into an unusual energy frequency that I had never felt before. At first, I couldn’t tell whether the vibration was coming from me or from the object in my hand. It was as if the energy moved in waves, flowing back and forth between us, creating a subtle rhythm of connection. In that unique moment in time, the driftwood and I were no longer separate. We were part of the same pulse, the same quiet mystery, bound by something unseen yet deeply felt.

The astonishing moment made it clear that this was much more than an old piece of dead wood. I stood there, transfixed, as a quiet thought passed through my mind: “Perhaps all life forms hold some undying energy, even this old, weathered, seemingly lifeless fragment of driftwood.”

It was a humbling realization. The object in my hand, shaped by time and tide, seemed to carry echoes of something ancient, perhaps even a memory, a message, or just the quiet persistence of life itself. In that instant, I felt as though I had tapped into a deeper rhythm, one that pulsed beneath the surface of things, connecting all living and once-living forms in a silent, enduring dance.

This energy-based notion immediately became the inspirational thread for everything that followed. This little gift from the lake was no longer just driftwood; it had become a keepsake, a quiet reminder of the intriguing connection with nature I had discovered throughout the campsite, serving as a souvenir from a much-needed vacation.

Back at the trailer, I added the precious driftwood to a small collection of stones gathered during the day's outing. Together, they were placed on a large rock close to the fire pit. In my mind, this resting place became a simple altar to the day’s discoveries, quietly glowing in the late afternoon light.

For the rest of the day, I pondered the meaning of such a find, filled with an ever-increasing sense of mystery and intrigue that this piece of wood had evoked in my imagination. It felt as though I had crossed an unseen threshold, entering a strange kind of awakening. My thoughts became infused with a quiet magic, a sense that nature held secrets just beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered by those willing to listen.

This small fragment of driftwood had become more like a catalyst. It had triggered a wave of curiosity, unbounded and alive, urging me to look closer, feel deeper, and wonder more freely about the hidden energies that pulse through the natural world.

These curiosity and energy-rousing thoughts it sparked ran wild and free during what turned out to be a most delightful outing. I decided such an inspirational gift deserved a thorough cleanup, requiring tender care to preserve its fragile form. As I gently brushed away more of the remnants of sand and time, a quiet thought echoed in my mind: “Perhaps this little driftwood treasure holds an important and insightful message meant just for me.”

It was hard to see anything but a plea for understanding, considering the shape, form and position of this piece of driftwood resting so gracefully on the rock.There was something intentional in the way it lay, as if placed by unseen hands, or guided by the lake itself. How could it be seen in any other way, especially with a pose that stirred something ancient within me, something almost sacred.

It reminded me of a quiet figure in meditation, or a symbol carved by time to speak without words. In that moment, I felt as though I were being invited to listen more closely, not with my ears, but with my heart.

To me, those root tentacles and outstretched arms were clasped in an attitude of prayer, much like a silent, humble appeal to be seen. There was something so deliberate in its posture, as if this piece of driftwood had something important to declare. Impossible to ignore such a quiet cry for attention. All that was needed was someone willing to pause, to notice and to truly listen.

While entertaining these fanciful thoughts, I began to feel something oddly familiar, much like a sensation of a door slowly creaking open within me. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but subtle and sure, like the beginning of a new understanding. I looked forward to gently clearing away more of the embedded dirt, eager to uncover what lay hidden between its delicate, timeworn pieces.

Later in the evening, before heading down to the campfire, I gathered the necessary tools for a decisive cleaning as a careful preparation for the next step, a vital and vigorous sanding. Great care was needed to dig out all the debris collected over time in the driftwood crevices. Each motion felt intentional, almost ceremonial, as if I were uncovering something sacred hidden beneath layers of time.

Astonishment filled my intention with every gentle stroke it required, mingling with hopeful anticipation. This wasn’t just about restoring a piece of wood. It was about honouring a gift, transforming it into something beautiful, something meaningful. The attention it required felt like a quiet conversation, one where each grain of sand and each curve of wood whispered its own story.

I was about to embark on what could only be described as an urgent quest, much like a journey to uncover the curious energy I had begun to experience in the surrounding nature. Bound and determined to understand the mysteries held within this little piece of wood, I settled in at the fire pit with sandpaper and a sharp knife close at hand, ready to begin a new and disarming energy discovery.

Incredibly, as I picked up the driftwood from the nearby rock, that familiar tingling sensation returned, only stronger now than earlier at the water’s edge.Curious, I brought the piece up to my ear, half-joking to myself, “What is it you have to say to me?”

To my utter astonishment, a response came, at first faint but building into an unmistakable, distant murmur that became a clear echo of awareness. A gentle whisper, precise and tranquil, spoke: “Open the door of heart and mind.” “Explore and enjoy each of life's moments.”

I could only shake my head in amazement, unsure what it all meant, yet deeply moved by the message. Whether imagined or real, it felt like the truth, and that was enough.

Returning to the task at hand, the origin of this beguiling piece of old wood soon revealed itself as I smoothed away the rough gray outer shell. Slowly, a warm, rich colour began to emerge, coaxed to the surface by each careful stroke. The discovery stirred a more profound attentiveness in me, along with a quiet determination to continue, despite the effort and energy required to bring out such hidden beauty.

My persistence was soon rewarded. Beneath the dull exterior lay a breathtaking display of symmetrical graining, streaked with delicate hues of pink and red that danced along the curves of the once-muted wood. It was a revelation. My little treasure was, without a doubt, a tiny root fragment of a red cedar tree.

Smiling inwardly, I thought, “I wonder who discovered whom?”

After much sanding and more buffing, I set the piece aside on the picnic table for the night. As I did, a deep sigh of contentment escaped me. It was the kind that comes not just from finishing a task, but from feeling something meaningful unfold. With that, I turned toward my sleeping quarters, the whisper of cedar still lingering in the air.

While preparing for bed after such an exhilarating yet exhausting day, my mind raced with curiosity and wonder. I could only speculate on the magical dreams that might visit me through the night. Though sleep was indeed fleeting and the morning came early, I awoke feeling strangely euphoric, as if something within me had shifted.

Drawn to the fire pit to greet the early sunrise, I was met with a breathtaking sight as I neared the picnic table. The first rays of morning light gently stroked the freshly sanded driftwood, intensifying the richness of its newly revealed red cedar grain. For one thrilling moment, a surreal glow radiated from the little treasure, as if nature itself were acknowledging the connection we had formed.

The sight stirred something deep and profound within me as a new appreciation for the energy force of nature took hold, along with a quiet reverence for its ability to speak in subtle, sacred ways. A door of awareness had opened, offering a path toward gratitude and deeper connections with all forms of life. Through this little gift from the lake, an opportunity had emerged, not only to explore the mysteries of life energy but also to share this extraordinary experience with others. It is hoped that in doing so, they, too, can be reminded that sometimes, it is in the smallest of things that we find the most profound truths.

This unique connection with nature and the little piece of driftwood took root deep in the heart and mind of this author during her journey of self-expression. It marked the beginning of a desire to write, inspired by an encounter so unexpected and profound that it led to the creation of my first book, Dream Whispers, and later Interludes with Nature.

Who could have imagined such a thing? It all started with a simple gift from the lake, like a seemingly lifeless piece of driftwood that turned out to be very much alive in heart and imagination, leaving one to ponder the still waters that run so deep.