Reflecting on the rifts of the world

CATHARINE COOPER

The graceful flight of a frigate bird’s shadow plays on the sand as I

sip hot coffee in a seaside restaurant in the picturesque city of La

Paz, Mexico. The easy glide of its distinct body shape draws my eye

toward the sea, colored with the morning light in shades of azure and

cerulean blue. An osprey breezes past, freshly caught fish clenched

with razor sharp talons. In the distance, a Holland America cruise

line lumbers toward Pinchilingue, and every surface is kissed by

brilliant warm sunlight.

The troubles of the world seem more than merely thousands of miles

away. La Paz, the city of peace, has a way of erasing what ails the

heart and mind. A joyful population fills this capital of Baja

California Sud, and prides itself on manifesting its name in

negotiations, relationships and interactions. Ever mindful of its

connection to the sea, all eyes turn toward its magnificent bay.

The recently reconstructed Malecon, a four-mile waterfront

walkway, is the pride of the city. Grey and adobe pavers define the

pathway in a snaking pattern, and joggers, dog walkers, lovers and

children ply her distance. Statuary commemorating the naming of the

city and strategically placed benches beg the weary or the pensive to

stop, rest for a while and contemplate the vistas. Children play on

swing sets, fishermen set their course from the sandy shore for their

day’s outing and cadres of trabajadores cleanse the beach of trapped

piles of seaweed.

It is hard to fathom, when confronted with such scenarios, that

the world remains painfully troubled. My heart breaks with the news

of the senseless, illogical and incomprehensible bombing of innocent

people in Spain. How can it be, that we, these amazing human

creatures, are unable to stand, one to the other, and embrace our

differences with respect, rather than disdain? Where is the love that

we believe to be our birthright? How is it that religion, which

should unite us, can be used in the name of terror?

Gazing toward the United States from a foreign shore, I am gifted

with the reflection of distance and survey the power of our great

country, built one stone upon one stone, slowly and with conscious

intent. Freedom and the ability to remake and redefine our selves

have served as a beacon to others across the globe who suffer the

stifling affects of oppression. Countless countries have striven to

emulate what we have patiently constructed. I pray, that while

confronted by the onslaught of what I can only call evil, we are able

to maintain those foundations that have produced our strength.

Here, in La Paz, it is peace between men and countries that seems

logical, and anything less than that an impediment to our progress as

a species. Whether it is the watery window to the world or its

somewhat remote location, life seems easier, both to those who pass

through and those who call it home.

As the day wanes, I feel a sense of remorse that I cannot claim a

tangible contribution toward the peace for which my heart longs.

Unless, it is true, that each individual’s energy contributes to the

collective whole, and then hopefully, my musings and prayers have

counterbalanced the negativity of those who would wish us ill.

On the beach, a mother and child hurriedly put the finishing

touches on a sand creation. A dark Labrador races in the dimming

light. Palms fill with the song and twitter of blinding yellow

orioles, and the screech and tapping of a rust bellied woodpecker. A

feral cat cries out, begging for someone to provide supper.

The sun slips behind the narrow peninsula, painting what was once

an azure sea with a palette of persimmon, melon and primary red. An

osprey wings past the quiescent palms, his dark and white wingspan

bathed in the colors of the sky. I scan the fading sky with a

whispered request, that the blessings of La Paz wend their way to

distant shores.

Venus emerges in the darkness, her bright light shimmering as a

pathway across the sea, beckoning lovers to follow. Overhead, the

first star appears, and, as usual, I make a silent wish. A serene

smile turns up the corners of my mouth as I bask in the beauty of

creation. I am so incredibly lucky to be a part of this moment.

* CATHARINE COOPER loves wild places. She can be reached at

[email protected].