The ocean is like a moody person. Forever changing feeling, look and temperament day in and out.
Shorelines tell stories like who lives there, how harsh the climate is and what kind of effect people are having.
You don’t need much right now other then this, and could take a piece of it with you. It would be a real memory, beautiful, solid and costs nothing. Leaking sunlight into your memory with warmth and blanketing your frozen February winters of white death with summer.
There was something inviting about this space.
There’s something smooth about the beach that invites you to wordlessness and peace. Salty ocean sprays out of the crashing surf hitting you as you are still.
You could say this was your best self, your beach self.
No need to rush.
Perhaps a moment of this can come with you on your way as you roll down the highway back to the city and resume life’s organized schedule of dinner, laundry, tooth brushing, lawn mowing and tv watching.
Sometimes childhood beach memories surface and subside as we see younger versions of ourselves walking past.