The “Nimble Frolic” of Terns

Terns
by Mary Oliver, from Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Don’t think just now of the trudging forward of thought,
but of the wing-drive of unquestioning affirmation.

It’s summer, you never saw such a blue sky,
and here they are, those white birds with quick wings,

sweeping over the waves,
chattering and plunging,

their thin beaks snapping, their hard eyes
happy as little nails.

The years to come — this is a promise —
will grant you ample time

to try the difficult steps in the empire of thought
where you seek for the shining proofs you think you must have.

But nothing you ever understand will be sweeter, or more binding,
than this deepest affinity between your eyes and the world.

The flock thickens
over the roiling, salt brightness. Listen,

maybe such devotion, in which one holds the world
in the clasp of attention, isn’t the perfect prayer,

but it must be close, for the sorrow, whose name is doubt,
is thus subdued, and not through the weaponry of reason,

but of pure submission. Tell me, what else
could beauty be for? And now the tide

is at its very crown,
the white birds sprinkle down,

gathering up the loose silver, rising
as if weightless. It isn’t instruction, or a parable.

It isn’t for any vanity or ambition
except for the one allowed, to stay alive.

It’s only a nimble frolic
over the waves. And you find, for hours,

you cannot even remember the questions
that weigh so in your mind.

In flight, the terns bring to mind an Escher painting

I really cannot recommend highly enough the new book, Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver. Over and over, she writes so lyrically about recalling oneself to an attitude of attention to everything. Oliver says, “I think there isn’t anything in this world I don’t admire” (from “Hum”).

Like Rilke, she finds profound truths in nature’s offerings:

“If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

“Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.”
— Mary Oliver, from “It Was Early”

Ocean Breakers: “The Fall of Kings”

View of the Southern Ocean from the Great Ocean Walk, day 1

“The line of breakers on the beach is a fantastic dissipation of long-accumulated power. It is the fall of kings.”
— Jonathan Raban, from “Waves” in Driving Home

I don’t remember ever learning about the Southern Ocean when I was in primary school. I remember the other oceans — the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Indian Ocean, and the Arctic Ocean. According to NOAA’s Ocean Service, “The Southern Ocean is the ‘newest’ named ocean. It is recognized by the U.S. Board on Geographic Names as the body of water extending from the coast of Antarctica to the line of latitude at 60 degrees South. The boundaries of this ocean were proposed to the International Hydrographic Organization in 2000.”

Oceans were just a mental image to me until I was in college and I flew over the Atlantic Ocean to Europe. That was the first time I actually saw an ocean in person. I still get a thrill every time I experience time on an ocean beach. Oceans and the infinite waves lapping or pounding the shore evoke a sense of power, majesty, vastness and eternity. I like how Jonathan Raban describes this: ” . . . the crest of each wave poised for its downfall, is a universal symbol because it unites the extremities of human experience in a single continuous line.” And, “In the winter of life, the sea lulls and comforts. It has the look and sound of eternity without putting one through the troublesome formality of having to die first.”

It’s no wonder that I loved best the ocean stretches of Australia’s Great Ocean Walk. Here are a few more photos:

Australia Trip Notes from the Great Ocean Walk

Me at the start of the Great Ocean Walk; Shelly Beach on the Southern Ocean

Map showing Great Ocean Walk from Apollo Bay to the Twelve Apostles (near Princetown)

The highlight of my trip to Australia was a seven-day hiking experience along the Great Ocean Trail in Great Otway National Park. This is a 104-kilometer (65-mile) trail from Apollo Bay to the Twelve Apostles on the rugged Southern Ocean coast. I had arranged a self-guided hike through Walk 91 — they took care of all meals, lodging, and daily transport to and from the trailheads.

Originally I had intended a thru-hike over all 104 kilometers. But my hiking partner was dealing with a respiratory infection, so my experience ended up being more of a sampling of shorter hikes all along the trail. Walk 91 staff accommodated our changes to the initial itinerary so that we could be outdoors hiking for several hours every day, but not do the longer full-day walks. This ended up being just perfect for me. And I didn’t feel short-changed in experiencing the scenic wonders of this part of Australia.

If I were ever to return to the Great Ocean Road, I would allow an extra day or two in Apollo Bay. I saw from the bus windows that it would be possible to walk for miles and miles along the shores and beaches of this large bay. You could easily do this from your hotel.

Parts of the Great Ocean Walk trail took us across lovely sandy beaches.

The first day’s hike on the Walk 91 itinerary was a short 5-mile hike from Shelly Beach back to our hotel in Apollo Bay. The trail passed along sandy beaches, pastures and farmland, bluffs, a caravan park, suburbs, and the Great Ocean Road (highway).

While the Great Ocean Walk does follow the rugged coastline of the Southern Ocean, long stretches of the walk are too far inland to afford views of the water. We hiked through coastal forests of gum trees and eucalyptus, and along bluffs of coastal scrub bushes that were too high to see over. The occasional breaks in the foliage gave out on amazing ocean vistas. And all of the trail’s beach stretches were our favorite parts of the Great Ocean Walk. And where we took the most photographs!