Tide’s Gone Out

The wind has picked up, casting a bit of a chill in the evening air. I throw another layer on and take a cup of cocoa with me to watch the sunset over the Pacific. The views here in the evenings are more spectacular than the brochure claims. Believe it for it’s true.

The tide is going out and I sit and watch as the sandbars and tidal pools emerge from the depths. Constantly changing, moving in place. They remind me of life. We are who we are, continuing to grow and evolve, always ourselves.

A seagull—I am now convinced it’s the same one—seems to have taken a liking to me and comes by each evening, checking in on me. Obviously, others have probably fed him food, but I like to imagine I’ve forged a connection, made a new friend. He likes to talk and I like to listen.

The waves talk as well where sea meets sky. A deep, rough voice grumbling and muttering as it rushes in first here and then there. The chocolate is warm and comforting. Perhaps it is my imagination, I can’t remember liking hot chocolate before.

So, the truth is that I don’t know the answer to your question. I think I am making progress. It’s slow though and I shall stay on here a few more weeks. I don’t know what home is anymore. The void there is … overwhelming, impossible. For me—at least for now. Maybe you’ll join me here for a sunset. I’m still me, anticipating what the tide will turn up next. Always shifting like sand suspended in the next wave.

Picture linked via Writing My Legacy

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