The Ocean toys and teases the shore’s edge. Like a sweet game of “you first”, the water cannot come to a decisive choice of whether it should stay up high on the beach or crawl back into itself. It reminds me of my own games; an internal struggle between two halves of the same person. They chase and claw at each other both playing the cat and the mouse simultaneously. In a real world example, the ocean and sand cannot both share the same role but when the waves crash against sand—it is futile to resist their mingling. I give in to a child-like urge of mine to shove my feet and hands into the wet sand. I cover myself with sand—scratch and rub it all around feeling my dead cells slough off and serve a better purpose into the elements. Twisting and turning in the sand I am not aware of time, sights, or sound. Everything is just a glittering mass reflecting off of the ocean’s back. It’s actually all just stardust. Every single little piece of matter, broken down to its most minute of building blocks, is from some billion year old star rock. How did things become so separate and distinct to our eyes? It makes me wonder how many senses are we really aware of. My goose bumps remind me of the descending sun and inventible cold that will creep into my bones. I’m not about to let that happen so I make my way to fraternize with the Pacific one last time. She fills the space around me and diffuses the sand from my body into her mass. Dunking my head I can feel air bubbles flit through my hair—changing my body temperature without fail. Sure did clean me up good.
“That’s all for today sweetheart”, I motion and take the steps out of a crashing wave to a daunting future of reality.