I found some old scraps of writing and journal writing from my past as I sorted through a cluttered cabinet in the office desk the other day.
When I lived in Virginia Beach and attended Old Dominion University…
It would be hard not to fall in love with the ocean: the soft, salty air, the sound of the lapping waves, and the beauty.
I sit here, watching it in the dark. It gets closer with each wave, each inky, black wave. And the orange moon just shines down in one zig-zagging stripe that seems to leap off the edge of the horizon.
This is my dream…writing on the beach. I never thought it would happen so soon. It’s not quite how I expected it to be, but I’m loving it anyway.
If everything else in my life seems difficult now, at least I have this. The beach is my sanctuary. It doesn’t love or hate. The ocean just breathes. With each breath is takes, it heaves another wave…and each wave is perfect. I am lost in this wondrous creation’s ferociousness, yet awed by its sparkling charm.