Like blood before it is exposed to oxygen,
the blue tide goes in and out with a distinct breathy sound;
like earth inhaling.
earths edge baring the reality of the living entity that we call our home.
Mother Nature as a nomenclature is not so far thrown from left field,
and there at the waters edge it manifests
and makes you feel; connected.
The world kept moving;
as in sand I wept a bit at the beauty my eyes gripped,
upon the sight of this fluid rhythm.
Watching as waves fell down I pondered what's in them.
Mysterious crystal blue waves
Water with so much hidden
right below it's surface..
I will arise and go now to these waves of blue and gray
Powder sand roll and black rock jetty
Holding my own and wanting to stay.
Nine footer in sand and cast net ready
My favorite place ever, ever so fond!
Horseshoe crab, salt laden foam and volley ball net
Bathing suit brunette or maybe a blonde?
Watch the bunker dodging, flashing to set
Umbrellas with mesh, coolers and coolers.
Sun tan oil, rubber blue boots without any laces
No watch to keep watching, hook setting schoolers
Casting and pitching to unreachable places.
My toes sink into the coarse grainy sand and stick to my skin.
And the wetness in the air that forms dewdrops on my arms doesn't help.
Ahead of me the ocean roars and I wonder why people say "ocean blue" when it's actually green, the color of sick kid snot, and tastes about the same when it seeps in your mouth.
Not to mention the stinging when you forget you can't open your eyes under water. It's the same sensation when I use the wrong contact lens solution.
"I hate the beach," I moan but my family drags me here anyway for spring break.
My mom reads on a chair, slowly sunburning. My brother attempts to surf over waves that constantly knock him down. Dad types away on his laptop. Vacation is just work with different scenery.
Mom says I don't have to swim, it's fun just to walk along the edge of the water and hunt for sea shells. More like step on them, I think, as their rugged edges cut my feet. I'm too afraid to pick them up after one incident with a crab.
Occasionally a sea breeze goes by causing the sand near me to whip my legs and sting, leaving tiny red scratches behind. I vow never again to buy that Yankee Candle scent.
A whole week in "paradise." That's where we came.
And it's only day one.
I hate the beach.
Feet in the sand
its been too long
waves washing over my toes
heels sinking in
It's like I never left
morning sun shining through the mist and the cloud
a dim light, a haze, a light breeze with a chill
hands in my sweater
no one around
seagulls swaying in the distance
waves coming in
at my own pace
deep breathe and a smile
this is where I find myself
this is where I can think
this is my place
The ocean’s waves lap the shore
You relax down to your core
You lay back, soak up the sun
After a long hard run
Your eyes close, your muscles unwind
Tension leaves your body and mind
As you slowly drift off to sleep
Happy thoughts, your dreams do keep
The sun is shining, the sky is clear
Nary a cloud, far or near
Time goes by, then you wake
You rise from the sand with a shake
You run your fingers through your hair
Sand, sand everywhere
Hair and clothes now free of sand
You feel connected to the land
Your feet moving, your mind now free
Your thoughts as happy as can be
Towards home you go, leaving the beach
Your dreams now feel within reach.
Standing above, the waves that crash send sprays against the glass: eyes protected, I breathe in the rest, salt sticky on my skin. The clouds roll over and over in turmoil; the summer best embraces in the morning chill. Seagulls cry for food: the poor, they compete with each other and it is not just beak and beak, but hand and hand; the city riches starve for scraps. A paradise vacation that makes fools, and the sea lions bark less than the men. But the storm is here, and only seaweed waves: where unforgiving stones impale the unworthy, this is where mermaids are made, and I am among them.
Slicked by the breeze, I dive into the waves, and bright garibaldi butt out of the beige; orange against gray, they bring sun to the sea and character to the floor, for here they are king, sharks far from their door. Schools pass by: on their way to class; the university so near, they're gone in a flash of browns and blues, and thus the hues of sea come and go. Where water sticks and absorbs, it becomes less of me and them, as I reclaim my fins and we are one again.