Striding up the deck, barefoot child on my hip, I spy the surprise horizon. Feeling it’s a gift just for me, I sigh at the utter magnificence. The great Beacon spotlights nature’s bridal train, waters cascading like hot lava… thick and full and lavish with radiance of diamonds disappearing…reappearing. At first sight, the ocean lulls me in with it’s song of velvet birds and savage stallions. The song that ties the world together with invisible string.
I dip my toe into this current that seems to enliven every cell of my body with it’s crisp chill. Who can look upon this wonder without the temptation to test it’s life? Yes, it’s real. It’s alive. Sinking down, the sand envelopes me like a toasty blanket as if to say, “Sit back. Stay awhile.”
Awhile… I could quite possibly spend my life in this place, drawing from it deep truth… a head rested on God’s chest. The notebook of perspective. My life unfolded and refolded with smoother curves.
I breathe in that misty sting of salt in hope that this memory will permeate me... come with me when I am beckoned to go. I glance over at pairs of tiny feet invigorated by crashing and sifting waves. Their tiny bodies will bottle this remedy for later use. Shells in their pockets hold the clang of wonder and echos of freedom. I can still feel the smooth skin of sanded shells between my once tiny fingers like the memory of an old friend long missed.
