It was just too hot and the air was halting when I ventured out the door this morning. I returned to the house to retrieve the puffer from my purse. My chest was closing tight and the airways were blocked.
With this poor air quality and the thermostat reading ” feels like 40″ there was no way on earth I could do anything but sit fairly still for the day so I decided to go to the beach. This is what I wrote as I sat soaking in summer.
I have wanted to be here so many days this summer and now that I’m here I can’t imagine why it took me so long to get here.
There was a wanting, a wishing to not be alone but now I would have it no other way. My only companions are a boat anchored a short way off with two swimmers emerging from it, a kayaker, tired from plying these huge waves and white caps. The kayaker sits on his craft a hundred yards down the beach. To the east a beach full of colourful umbrellas with chairs and people but they are too far away to even see if they have faces .
The clouds billow with fierce looking dark faces, momentarily block the sun and dissipate, leaving blue, hazy sky to wait for the next threat of summer storm.
The waves roar to the shore crashing, sometimes with strength and sometimes with a sort of pity for having broken there.
My chair is carefully placed on the sand now so as not to get my journal wet but when I was reading my feet squished in the sand beneath the waves, sinking lower with each rush of water.
A gull floats in the face of the sun, looking briefly like mere shadow but then flits and dives to catch the light on white wings.
The rocks dance gracefully in the water with their green skirts of moss floating to and from with the movement. A tree struggles to grow among them. I don’t know how it has survived the last two winters.
My solitude is far from silent. Not even three second can pass before another crash of wave but it is the noise of peace in my heart.
Something in me revives when I sit by this shore. A thousand happy memories dance in my head and while they are accompanied by some melancholy it does not linger.
Can you feel the heat of the sun tighten the skin on hands and legs. I know I will have a little sun burn but my face revels in the mix of heat and watery air.
Just as my bathing suit is close to dry I will consider the options of dressing and climbing the hill to home.
Yet no! I will linger and once more venture to the waves for one last lap of summer against my chest.
First sandbar, second sandbar, then third; the waves beyond are over my head. I dive in as if I am ten again. The water lifts me, weightless. I find myself drifting with the current and swim a little against it. Then swim and walk back to shore.
Waves slap my things and I laugh at life.