Sunrise Love
Mornings at the beach are simply unparalleled.
I referenced this poem in a post about a year later entitled Sunrise Love with You
I was a grown adult before I ever experienced my first one. Cloudy or shine, there’s a healing that happens in those short hours between dark and day when your feet sink into the stardust that has been granulated and deposited for just this purpose.
There is a whole philosophy regarding sand. How the ocean takes rocks and relentlessly pounds them with the power of God and reduces them and reduces them until they are these tiny granules that sometimes look like sugar, sometimes glass, or tony ebony pearls. On one beach in Norther Florida, they are huge flakes that stick to you for hours and hours even after you are completely dry and you have to scratch them off with your fingernails. It's very weirdly satisfying. Also a little annoying. And is it not fascinating that two grains of sand from around the world can end up on a beach together? But in one surge of the surf, those same grains will part forever?
Beaches, are heavy stuff.
Talking, drawing, walking, writing… all are better when you are on the strand. I always liked the beach movies where a group would have a bonfire after dark. But mornings, mornings are best alone. Or with someone you love.
Yes, a walk on the beach restoreth the soul.
The tea smells of caramel apple,
Warm and sweet.
Feet are gritty with sand.
The ocean growls at the shoreline.
Wind, still this morning.
In the distance, the cry of a gull.
Dunes stretch out endlessly,
Bisecting the green earth
And the thriving ocean.
This moment feels timeless,
1000 years ago, as today.
Except for you.
Brown eyes
Rich giggles,
A chaotic intellect
That laughs at logic.
Seeing all of the beauty in the world,
Never has there been,
Never will there be
A woman like you…
One spark in the vastness
Of an unknowable universe.
The scenery changes
Day by Day
As does our love.
Deeper, and more profound.
Wind is kicking up now.
The gull has drifted away.
Drizzle starts.
Let’s go make eggs.
silly rabbit, you don't make eggs, you prepare them
#essay #travel #sketchbook
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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