Saturday, February 18, 2012

Nags Head

Tim and I took the long weekend over President's Day to check on the house and relax a bit in the sunshine.  Yesterday was cold and windy, today a perfect Spring day. 

Today,  my walk on the beach was a poem.
Abandoning my shoes by the dune fence,

I rolled up my jeans and savored the cool crunch of sand between my toes.

Meandering along the high tide line -- looking for the elusive colored glass worn smooth and opaque by the sea.

Wading through sandy rivulets of yesterday's tidal pool.

My thoughts a million footprints back and forth across the expanse.

The icy fingers of low tide lapping at my toes.

And on the way back - an image of my 80 year old self, wrapped in billowy gauze and linen, still enjoying the poem.

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