August 30, 2017
The morning began in a fog. The ocean was barely visible from a distance, prompting my entire self to appear at the shore. The waves undulated softly on the horizon. At first, their height was undefined. My periphery was enveloped in a dense mist. Whiteness resounded, along with the swoosh of breaking waves. The water crept in closer and closer. I skipped back, so as not to get wet. The approach differed, with every tide. Irregularity! Some hardly came near, others surged inward with intention. The waves are a tease, as is life.
Light clarified, and the surfers began to come out. Like ants of a colony, they joined each other in the water. Never surf alone! Not a sport for the meek and mild. The waves were high today and the surfer’s sense of excitement permeated the air. The challenge of riding the rising white capped water presented itself. A unique moment of bliss!
Now, the day is progressing into ‘busy,’ as usual. While the surfers pursue their quest, cars go racing by, on the 101. Campers awaken, fix their breakfast and joggers and walkers abound everywhere. Never, without a sign of life, the California coast comes alive!
The clock ticks away, in opposite fragments of time and space. I feel saddened by the unlivable circumstances “Harvey” brings to the people of Houston. The decision to evacuate, or not was wisely chosen. According to past experience, moving thousands of people out of the city was an unimaginable undertaking. The fourth largest city in the U.S.A, found itself in a no win situation!
How lucky I have been to escape tragedy, thus far. I cross my fingers, knock on wood every morning upon waking, and even at night, bring myself to say a prayer, thanking the supreme forces, for giving me another day. One more chance to watch the ocean, listen to the rumble of cars, be with those near and dear, and hopefully, give back to the world. The fog has lifted, for awhile.
On Tiffany Creek 