In loving memory of Louise Harris, a special friend, who liked to write poetry and read. This posting is to honor her birthday (August 16, 1913 to March 11, 2007). “She was ‘my gift from the sea'”
Sometimes life’s most treasured gifts come in the form of a book. There’s one in my collection that is small and yellow with age but, it remains one of my favorites. It’s my paperback book , “Gift from the Sea” by Anne Morrow Lindbergh that my remarkable friend, Louise Harris, gave to me as a gift a long time ago.
The following is an excerpt from this book inspired by the author’s brief vacation at the sea and one of my favorite parts.
“The Beach is not the place to work; to read, write or think. I should have remembered that from other years. Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or sharp flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully, one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists, and good intentions. The books remain unread, the pencils break their points, and the pads rest smooth and unblemished as the cloudless sky. No reading, no writing, no thoughts even–at least, not at first.”…
Note: Anne Morrow Lindbergh (née Anne Spencer Morrow; (June 22, 1906 – February 7, 2001) was an American author, aviator, and the spouse of fellow
aviator Charles Lindbergh.
Written by Mary Gilmartin, August 16, 2012