In Need of a Beach

In my mind I hear the rhythm of the waves as they wash up on a sandy shore.  The breeze is light, yet heavy with the moisture of the waters over which it is passing.  Raucous gulls ride the currents in the early morning beams of sunshine peeking through low clouds on the horizon that mute the colors of the dawn into purples and pinks and oranges that diffuse into each other.  Pelicans skim the edges of the breakers as they roll inward, seeking the silvery shapes that dart just below the surface.

I resist the urge to wander along the firm, moist edge where the water surges onto the beach.  I might seek the shells and sand dollars that have washed up during the night but instead, I sit and breath deeply of the salt air in the coolness of the morning.  The lapping, rolling, surging, washing, renewing waters lull me into tranquility.

With a jolt I awake to the needs of the day and climb out of bed to once again face the routine.  I think the ocean is calling....