Sand compacted into the beach, footprints running this way and that way, haphazardly, with no defined logic, spread before me. Children’s toes that wiggled holes into the sand, parent’s feet chase the little feet to the edge of the breaking waves, teenage feet walking around the shells, names of girls in love with boys dug deeply into the sand with a stick that lies beside the scene. Footprints of the birds, shells broken and sharp lie crushed under the weight of larger footprints. Scattered and varied are all of the indentations of this beach.
Walked, ran, strolled and wondered upon; the sand creates an etch a sketch that will be shaken clean one day by the tide but for now it tells stories of those who have visited; families on vacation preserving a memory of a lifetime their child touching their first wave, the teenager with a crush standing in the salt air dreaming he will kiss her one day scratching his name into the sand, a young couple running down the beach talking of their plans for their future, an older woman wondering in and out of the tide with the breeze upon her hair breathing in the air she has left, the lonely widower in his sorrow staring out into the water asking God why He has taken his wife from him and the children running in and out of the cold water chasing one another in laughter and joy.