The Tide

It is August.  Over half of the year has passed.  I am at the beach cursing that I don't have a pen and paper with me.  They are back at the car in my purse in the trunk.  I am trying to not to think about the results of the biopsies but I can't stop from doing it.  Don't think about a ballerina dressed in pink riding on the back of a circus elephant.  See?

I grab my car keys and hike back to the car.  I really need to write.

When I got to the beach at 9:30 this morning it was sparsely populated.  That's how I like it.  The wind is blowing hard and I like that, too.  As I get closer to the water, I can see that the tide is coming in as the waves crash to the shoreline.  After setting up my blanket and bag, I slather on sunscreen including getting as much of my back as my fingers can reach and I am sure I have left white globs of goop back there.

The sounds of the beach fill my ears.  Waves, birds.  The water is warm enough to walk right in and as I do I am tossed about.  Waves hit me and spray my face.  When I lift my feet off of the bottom I am carried by the tide southward so periodically I have to fight my way back trudging against the current fish swimming ahead of me trying to stay out of my way.  Sometimes I face the shoreline and watch it pass by fast enough it seems as if I am in a car.  Sometimes I drag my feet in the sand to slow the driving water.

Crash into me!  Crash into me again!  Make me keep my mind on now.  I don't want to think.  I just want to be.  Sea salt is in my mouth and I taste it when I lick my lips.  It gets in my eyes and the burning doesn't last long.

Hit me some more!  Drop me low and then pick me up and carry me away.  Floating up and then pressed down.  I stand in front of walls of water topped with froth and enjoy the impact that is so strong I walk backwards.  Tire me out, please.  I need peace and if it means standing here in your strength being knocked around for an hour then I will.

I finally am tired enough and peaceful enough to leave the water.  The beach is inhabited by more people and I know I will want to leave soon.  White powdered sugar coats my feet and ankles as I walk back to my blanket.

Green Eyes

I looked into his eyes and realized they were the most beautiful shade of green.  A deep forest green, depending on the light.  And then he smiled and oh, my.  I was lost.  I was gone.  The dimple in his chin was disarming. 

It wasn't until we went to the beach later that day did I realize something deeper happened when we met.  A shifting in my soul.  Like a seatbelt being buckled. Click.  I would never be the same.  I was connected to him.  My soul recognized him.  It wasn't my heart or my mind but deep within me - I knew him. 

I recently noticed his eyes again.  Such a beautiful shade of green.  A deep lush green found in the woods.  With love they looked back at me.

Sandbar

Yesterday in the later part of the afternoon Jim and I went to the beach. It was low tide and we walked out into the Gulf to the first sandbar. It had taken us a trip first down the shoreline and then back up until we found a section of water that was calm enough for us to traverse without being pulled or pushed by the chaotic turbulence and strong undertow.

There were other sandbars further out but I had to stop at the first one. It was glorious. I knelt down into the sandy bottom that I could see through the water. I looked upward and saw the sun lowering in the sky reflecting in the waves as they continued to smash against each other tumultuously. I was in awe.

A forest holds its own beauty. I grew up loving, playing in, and seeking and finding solace in the woods. Their scent, the sound of the forest floor as one walks, the enchanting way the sun dapples it as it peeks around the branches high up. The trees talk. My heart finds peace in the forest.

But the wilds of the Gulf hold a different kind of allure. It is power without mercy or humility that produces tranquility within my soul. What words does language hold that can come close to describing such a deep down inner core emotional reaction? I could have sat there forever and just watched as Jim's arms kept me anchored. Even as we got up to go back to shore, I had to turn around, stop, and look just one more time.