Taking time to live real life

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

PROUT'S NECK, Maine - The DNA men are inside. It's 5:30 p.m. and they have been at it all day: trading information, speculating, extrapolating, talking nuclei and double helixes, trying to decipher the genetic code of life.

It is noble work they do. Their research will improve, even save people's lives.

But in the meantime, there's today, Oct. 3, a glorious, sunny, warm Indian summer day, set down in the middle of fall.

And they are oblivious to it. They hunch over tables and read their notes. They listen to lectures and give reports. At breakfast and lunch they stayed inside and talked work, and even now as dinner approaches their brows are still furrowed and their business consumes them.

This morning, I walked along the beach with my daughter. We found a perfect sand dollar, unbroken and round. Do the creatures who live inside these things design them, etch the petaled flower shape on the top and the ridges at the bottom? What kind of a life form is so creative? And how can a shell so fragile, a thing made of sand, survive the pounding sea?

The design on the sand dollar reminds me of the stitching on quilts. It is art. I held it in the palm of my hand as I walked. I don't understand who made it or why. But I don't need to understand to appreciate its beauty.

After our walk, we returned to our room, my daughter to read a book that is due next week, and I to finish a column I'd begun earlier. We both had things we had to do.

I gave up before she did. The window was open. I could hear the waves, the wind, the leaves rustling, gulls in distance, a lone cricket, the world whispering: come outside. Enjoy.

Come with me, I said to my daughter. And she did. This time we walked along the cliffs and found mollusks, sea glass, tiny shells, yellow butterflies, a purple dragon fly and dandelions in bloom. We sat on a rock and watched a duck float and bob, float and bob then disappear under water for 45 seconds. I didn't know ducks could do this.

I didn't know rocks could look as black and polished as onyx. I didn't know trees could be so many shades of green - moss, lime, juniper, jade. I didn't know it was possible to see a sea gull flying past a condominium at Old Orchard Beach, two, maybe three miles away. That's how clear the day was, that's how lucid the air.

We cut through someone's yard and walked down a dirt road and sneaked into a house that is being built, a mammoth thing only yards from the water. Every room has an ocean view. On a gravel path we discovered a garden made of rectangles of flowers. One held great purple blossoms; another white lace-like petals. It seemed an enchanted garden, planted in the middle of nowhere.

We rode bikes next, past trees the color of pumpkins, plums, apples and summer squash.

We passed cows, ducks, geese, a pig, and a small country store, bought an ice cream - chocolate chip, homemade and as rich and sweet as the day - and continued riding, past an old cemetery that leaned into a hill, past a white Lutheran church with great green shutters, past a gnarled, gray, witch-like tree.

Back at the inn, a bride and groom arrived. We lingered by the door and watched as they danced. At 4 p.m. we had tea outside.

The DNA men missed all this. They were immersed in their work. They spent the day seeking ways to decode the blueprints of life.

Most days I am immersed in my work, too. I stay indoors even when the world beckons. So many days the sun rises and sets and I hardly notice.

But today I lived life, I didn't just observe. I didn't discover anything new or produce anything that will benefit mankind. Instead I rediscovered what I frequently forget: that the world is a gift, the sun, the sea, the sky, the air we breathe, the land we walk on, the birds, the bees, the flowers, the trees, all of it, beauty begging to be noticed, life waiting to be enjoyed.