The Bells Are Ringing

Basilica, Mission San Juan Capistrano, California

What a beautiful sound, those ringing bells in the tower of this church in San Juan Capistrano!  The surrounding city is not filled with high-rise buildings, so the music moves well over the rooftops.  Yet inside the church, and if the doors are closed, the music of the bells seems somewhat distant.  

But isn't that part and parcel of churches?  A place that is away from everyday life, a sense that peaceful respite is possible for some moments of our lives, a belief that refuge can be found?

Maybe, as I have, you bought into that whole concept so widely used in television programs, especially police stories, that someone fleeing from the authorities may claim sanctuary -- protection from arrest -- as long as they remain inside a church.  But have you ever Googled that idea?  

I did that for you, earlier today.  And the answer is no.  Sanctuary in a church does not protect one from criminal arrest.  Of course, for the purposes of someone writing a story, a character may assume that refuge is still to be found there.  And act upon that assumption.  Simply requires another plot twist to resolve!

At least while inside, that character may enjoy some lovely bell-enabled musical interludes!

On the High Seas

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

Every time that I see this replica of the sailing ship The Pilgrim in Dana Point, these famous pirating words are always the first to come to mind.  Maybe it means that I am a worrier.  Something bad is likely to happen.  Or that I have visited Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland once too often!

Become a merchant seaman, face bad weather, churning seas, backbreaking labor?  As was true for the workers on The Pilgrim?  Many did, making trading voyages on vessels like this one that sailed from the east coast to the west coast of the United States during the 19th century.  But face pirates?  Now that is a different story entirely!  

 Adventurers may always have been drawn to the seas, to their inherent risks, to their unknown dangers.  And to their breathtaking beauty.  We likely are little different today, with recreation taking the lead over backbreaking labor in placing us gliding or racing over the waves.  We even hear of modern-day pirate action, from time to time.  

Are bandits drawn to the sea -- or does the deep anonymity of the sea beget bandits?  For that answer, I suppose we must search for some vestige of inner-bandit that may be found in each of us.  

The spirit of Halloween may typify my inner-bandit.  "Ahoy there!  Hand over all of your chocolate!"  Those would likely be my pirating commands upon boarding a vessel.  And then, I'd probably add, "Please" just for good measure!

San Clemente Observations

Things look quite calm from this hillside vantage point, high above the beach and pier at San Clemente.  Now and then, a train rushes by, filled with passengers headed to parts beyond.  Or not so filled with passengers, but faithfully making its appointed rounds, just in case.

Are things always -- or ever -- what they appear on the surface?  Are things really as calm as they appear from this view?  Who can tell what dramas are playing out, nearby.  

The birds that fly past gaze at me knowingly.  Perhaps they have flown near windows and observed those dramas unfolding.  Better still, maybe they gravitate toward the sounds of happiness, swooping in a for a closer look at the pleasures of time spent at the beach.  Picking up the transforming vibes of joys shared among families and friends.

Several small birds land elegantly, then flutter in the bushes behind my head.  Will they whisper little secrets of sights they have seen so that I can enhance this birds-eye view?  Or will they simply drop some whitewash on my head ...

Fascinated by Harbors

Sailing ship leaving the port of Le Havre, 1851, photograph by Louis-Cyrus Macaire
Source: Gallica, Bibliotheque Nationale de France

Used with permission

I am fascinated by harbors.  

Can we imagine all of that exciting moments that have happened there.  All of the tender goodbye caresses.  All of the ebullient welcome hugs and kisses.  All of the life decisions that will be made by voyagers as a result of these voyages.

As for me, I love to imagine those life-events.  In some cases, I need to search through my knowledge of past times, distant places.  The picture above, from the mid 1800s, shows the Port of Le Havre, in northwest France.  

Many Americans may not realize it, but their immigrant ancestors from several countries in western Europe may well have departed their homelands, headed for America, via Le Havre.  These brave people boarded ships and, undoubtedly, gazed intently at the shoreline as they departed to a distant land.  For many, they would never see these shores, or their continent of birth, again.

At the same time, the exhilaration of the adventure upon which they embarked must have helped to crowd out their wistfulness.  A new world awaited them.

Each voyage, in essence, takes sailors and voyagers to new worlds.  Embarking upon new ventures, testing new waters, setting sail for adventures to come -- writing a book and sending it into navigable, though uncharted, waters is similar.

And so, we begin.  Alex Adam, Author.

Imagine that!