The soft sand on Islantilla Beach on the Costa de La Luz of Spain is strewn with pretty shells. The mother of pearl catching the sunlight. Inspired by the shells, the light and the need to create I was inspired to draw and words composed themselves into my mind into the passage below.
As the waves rolled over and over into the beach my tears rolled down my cheeks. I could no more stop them than the sea can stop the waves breaking with their eternal rhythm.
I tasted the salty tears and realised I am or so separate from the sea. I am only ever a tear taste away from being a little closer to my beloved sea.
The same sea has greeted me on the shores of different countries and continents. It races up the beach to greet me then coyly retreats. Sometimes taking me by surprise to lick my heels.
The waves roll on, eternally, small making of me. I have gazed to the ocean for wisdom on many occasions and found solace in its magnitude, it’s constant movement and the perfectly level and straight horizon. Sometimes on a beach I feel I can see the curvature of the earth as it disappears into wherever.
Boats bob along the shore, looking graceful as the sailors fight to steer and catch the wind.
Children play. Adults play. I can often be seen walking, eyes down, to see what treasures and stories the retreating sea has left. Sometimes when I reach down to pick a shining pearly shell the sea will rush in and jealously retrieve it. Maybe not ready to give that gem just yet.
The sun shards in the blue sky, warning, bathing my body in heat, a hug from the Universe to soothe my soul and restore my weary spirit.
The sand sparkles in its infinities. Glistening like pretty diamond dust, a gift from God.
I run on the sand feeling a thud as I connect with each step a knock on the Earth’s surface which feels like it may place a little tremor to the core.
Pretty patterned bikinis and a forest of parasols provide a little shade and mark out territories and are beacons for the bathers, pulled along by the current as they jump and splash through the waves. A little fearful, a little excited, enjoying and occasionally feeling threatened and reminded that the sea is king and we are small. We are like the rolling shells pulled back and forth by the sea. And as the tide retreats more jewels crown the shore, sparkling at rest, until the moon brings the tide high and strong and the reassuring cycle begins once more.
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