By Jane Mooney
In the shallows wavelets ebb and flow, sparkling with happy memories. I scarcely notice the pull of the bigger waves under the surface. Unseen. Waiting to break.
Further out the waves are stronger. White tops crash into me, knocking me off balance. I have to concentrate hard, bracing myself to stay upright against their incessant force.
The tide comes in, an unrelenting crescendo washing away the light and knocking me off balance. I can’t hold it back. I’m afraid I will drown. I can’t see. I am all feelings.
And then it pulls back, leaving a vast canvas of pristine emptiness.
I like it, Jane. We Beal’s have an affinity with the waves. Well done, Judy