BeachCombing the Soul

Each day at the beach held a gentle routine. The solitude became less and less threatening as I relaxed into it, walking the beach twice a day, cooking simple meals, feeding the goldfish that swam in a large planter by the deck, sleeping, and writing. The mornings found me waking early as the first rays of sun reflected off the water and shimmered across my upturned face. I arose eagerly and walked the length of the beach, pants rolled to my calves, enjoying the surprisingly warm water at the edge of the tide. I marveled at the plucky seabirds, pipers and oyster catchers running alongside searching for their morning meal in the wet sand. They felt like the perfect companions. I’ve always enjoyed beachcombing, and the treasures underfoot competed with the rumbling surf for my attention. There was so much beauty everywhere that it was hard to know where to look.  Continue reading →