Weatherbeaten

One of the most iconic images painted by my favorite artist growing up is called Weatherbeaten. It's a huge oil painting depicting storm driven waves crashing on immense rocks along the shore.

I was in my mid thirties when I learned that Winslow Homer's studio on the Maine coast was open for public tours and I jumped at the chance to go visit. As part of the tour, we walked out along the shore to the very spot he painted Weatherbeaten. 

Although it was a sunny day on our visit, we could clearly see which rock was depicted in the painting. What struck me was that more than 120 years later, the rocks still stood out as clear as day. As the weather shifts and changes, as tides rise and fall, the rock remains. 

I thought of that painting again this summer as I stood on the rocky Downeast Maine coast. 

Windswept. 

Waveworn. 

Weatherbeaten. 

That's clearly what the rocks and landscape are, and yet that seems to center the wind, waves, and weather and not the rocks that stand here against the test of time. 

Each storm and wave takes a little rock with it, but even after a thousand storms and countless waves crashing, the rocks still stand. Perhaps we should come up with a new term then. It's not just that the rocks are swept, worn, or beaten but rather that they've stood where they are and moved the course of the wind, waves, and weather. Perhaps ever so slightly but they are still here and the wind, waves, and weather have moved on. 

And so I reflect on what this means for each of us. We can look at it as being slowly worn down, weatherbeaten. 

Or we can remember that we are also the rocks that hold steady when the storm rages. 

We are the rocks that bend the wind and waves ever so slightly. 

We are the rocks that have stood the test of time.