Select Page

A horse canters down the beach flicking sand from its heels in front of a backdrop of pelicans diving for breakfast. Twelve glide overhead like a beaded necklace strung from the clouds–except there are no clouds. The blackbird hides in the branches of the coconut tree, merry queen of the beach is she, laughing. Not really. I’m not even sure the chirps are hers. 

But I know it’s Villa Cat who made the quack when he came for his goodmorning lap of cream. It must be that he lives near water, that he quacks, not mews. The water…I will miss its melody through the night–the rising crescendos and silent pauses lulling me and waking me synonymously. 

My treasures from our walks lay on the table with the grains of sand emptied out. Fourteen shells, each a story–a history within of life and death–formed and shaped and battered into beauty. 

Will Villa Cat and Beach Dog miss us when we leave tomorrow? I will miss them. But I’ve learned of the heart’s capacity to love and lose and love again. Birth, death, and rebirth, is the story told timelessly. Isn’t that right Beach Dog? 

They told me you lost a puppy just last month. Stillborn. I think you know what I mean. 

I’ll meditate on this beauty and be reminded that beauty impressed on us changes us. 

I’ve never seen so many hungry pelicans. They must have had a big night, or the fish have come in away from the fisherman who have been out there working through the night–swimming for their lives only to lose them. The boat lights looked like stars on the horizon–water merging with sky. We searched the diamond filled night for constellations and saw a falling star at the same time, two nights in a row. What are the chances of that? Mysteries surround us each day. And what are the chances of finding a lost wedding ring in the sand? Todd did. Coincidence? I don’t know. But I do know miracles happen when we have eyes to see them and hearts to hold them. 

I will leave this place tomorrow, and leave behind the seashells–except for the two shaped like shoes–my mini sand slippers. I’ll save them for reminder. And I will leave behind old fears for confidence, past anxiety for peace, all grief for a heart that will love more and more and more. Salted. I will leave salted. 

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
%d bloggers like this: