A day at the beach

Being something of a self proclaimed realist, I've never been one of those deep dreamer types that interprets my dreams much more than as an annoyance to my getting some decent rest nor would I ever claim to have some kind of profound connection with the elements, or anything for that matter, except for maybe the occasional drink or burger in my hand. Not that I don't have depth, I just express it differently and am quite blunt in the belief that a tree, is a tree, is a tree. However, having grown up around the ocean, many of my happiest memories take place at the beach. And whenever I am by the sea, wherever in the world I might be, I'm not exaggerating when I say that truly feel at home. I spent all afternoon at the beach today and spent most of my time being mesmerized by it's wild beauty. While there I found myself itching to take pictures, write something, draw in the sand, anything, to etch the scene and how it made me feel on the walls of my mind.

The sound of the waves, a crashing symphony that lulls my soul. The scent of it, the feel of the strong breeze and the salty spray on my face, it draws me in to a peaceful state of mind. Slept on the sand while watching the winds create ripples in the horizon, the sand warm on my face as it rolled gently along, urged on by the billowing wind.

My friend brought her young daughters. The most gorgeous little fathead Samoan beauties you ever saw, each with an endearing knack of calling you "Aunty" right off the bat. "Sowee Aunty," one cooed after getting sand all over herself, post shower. Two words spoken with big brown eyes in a voice that could make you forgive even the bloodiest murder. Watching them play on the sand and stand fearlessly in the face of the oceans might (while clutching on to me for dear life) I found a reminiscing smile on my face. What a good life to be 3 years old and at the beach. Not a care in the world except trying to keep the sand castle standing and figuring out how to convince mommy to stay a little longer.

Ah, bless.

You know, I think perhaps the dreamers have it slightly wrong. It's not about a profound connection with the elements. It's less about the water. Nor about the call of the ocean than it is about the constance of it all. That no matter where you go and what life brings at you. The waves will always crash, the sand will always be warm on your skin and the salt spraying breeze will always draw you in to a peaceful state of mind.

So while I itched to find something to capture the scene in my memory today, I realise now that the reason I was so "drawn in" is because it's already there.

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