High Tide

I have always loved the ocean. It would be impossible to count the hours I have spent just sitting on the beach. Watching the seagulls drift effortlessly on a breeze looking for a flash just under the water. Then the headlong dive to the salty water for a morsel.... And  the triumphant return to the sky, to drift yet again, watching for that flash of light.  

There is comfort in the aroma of salt air. Undeniable proof that life has come before us and will follow long after we are gone.  It is a smell you can  taste on your lips and feel on your skin .  I can't think of another smell (a good one anyway) that has that ability.  

When I was finally old enough to drive on my own I would take off to the beach alone.  When downtime was needed, it seemed it was the only place to find real peace within myself. A place for reflection. I used to drive down to the ferry and ride across to the Bolivar Peninsula. From there you can drive for miles and miles on the beach.  Find a nice cove or sand dune, look for shells while walking the beach in search of driftwood for a fire.  I spent some soul searching in front of those fires at night.  The moon and stars shining so brightly you feel you could just reach out and almost touch them. The sound of the wind and the waves gently crashing like a lullaby. The warmth of the fire burning and the feel of the salt air on your skin. The feel of warm sand between your toes as you drift with the waves ,and feel the tides pushing or pulling you toward the answer you were searching for.  Sometimes the answers came....sometimes they drifted to me after leaving but the ocean always seemed to have the answers.