Seaside Thoughts

There was something strangely therapeutic about the North Shore on a clean, crisp, and cold November afternoon. No crowds congegrating along the water's edge. No noise except that coming from the waves, which raced up the beach and then receded backwards into the sea. No noise except that of the waves. Deep navy crests erupting into white, foamy froth. The wind, steady and silent, sped over the water, over the sand, and tickled the handful of flags that hung at half-mast just beyond the boardwalk. Cold. Stoic. Relentless. Yet, somehow, comforting. There was something strangely therapeutic about the North Shore.