Author: Marty Luster

 Plum Island

Sacred Space

Where we lived in New York, a stone path led to

a meditation garden that we designed and

built over the course of two summers.

A stone Japanese lantern marked a turn

in the path that took us to a wooden bench

that overlooked the smaller of our two ponds.

The pond was home to tadpoles and bullfrogs,

spring peepers, two mated mallards that

visited us each year, muskrats, deer and

an occasional blue heron, magnificent

dragonflies and a wide, colorful and

musical collection of birds and insects.

That garden was a place of perfect peace

where I went to pause and to free my mind

of wasteful and exhausting commotion.

It is the place where my daughter was married,

where Barbara’s mother daily came and

near where  our well-loved dog’s ashes were spread.

So, when we moved to Gloucester, we took with us

the lantern and the bench and the sacredness

of that space and put them in a new quiet place

that looks over the gardens, down the hill

to the salt marsh and the tidal river;

where I listen to the  hidden ocean

and the bell buoy off  the Annisquam Light

and watch the gulls, egrets and herons over

the marsh and feel peace wash over me again.

Marty Luster

Wheeler Point, Annisquam River, Jones Creek, Ram Island.

Look at your feet.  You are standing in the sky.  When we think of the sky, we tend to look up, but the sky actually begins at the earth.  ~Diane Ackerman

I don’t know who she belongs to, but she visits regularly. Drives Lucy (our dog) crazy.

Pink Heather

What a delight to sight the pink heather

that marks  the giant granite block path

to our front door and then around to the

southeastern side where the dormant beds

await the go-ahead to declare winter’s end.

We really can’t complain; it’s been a mild

and dry winter, but it was still, in February,

a thrill to have this hardy soul break out

of its slumber and present its gentle

blossoms to us, a subtle sign of change.

Early color is a surprise and a joy.

My only fear is that it may be a

false messenger, an agent provocateur

that has been sent to divert our eyes from

the sneak attacks for which March is so well known.

Marty Luster

The Light in Gloucester

The light in Gloucester continues to awe me.

I saw it on my first visit a few years ago

and it has enraptured me ever since.

It’s not a single color, hue or cast-

more a unique quality of clarity

that allows the colors to show their best.

This magical light allows us to swim in

whatever tone happens to be present

at the moment, as we go about our lives.

It may be the soft pink of a late summer

afternoon at Smith’s Cove, the glow of sunrise

above Thacher Island, the lavender dusk

hugging the tidal river, the deep blue of the

sea and the sky on a crisp winter day or

the breathtaking golden aura of autumn

when the marshes explode.

It is always enchanting, even now; even

home on a winter morning, mystical light

floods my room through the large glass doors that allow

me to look out over this wonderland.

Marty Luster