I set the clock ahead one hour last night so I was up early enough to see the sun rise this morning. It peeked over the horizon with an orange edge. I blinked, and it was all the way above the water line. How did that happen so fast?
The fisherman moved the blue trash can away from the dune and closer to the water. He stretched, facing the sunrise. I thought he might do yoga. He fished. He never did put the trash can back.
I glanced up from my book. I saw the feet first. A surfer in a wetsuit was riding a dinky wave doing a handstand! He did it again.
I want to squat on the beach like the 3-year-old toddler and then stand back up with a hop. She was wearing a vivid blue dress. Curiosity, wonder, flexibility–she was happy digging a hole and throwing sand into the wind.
An “older couple” walked down by the water. Grey hair, loose shirts, a long floaty denim skirt, sensible sneakers. They smiled.
The bright yellow kayak rode on top of a wave like a skilled surfer. Where were his legs? He had one oar with a flat paddle on each end. He dragged the kayak across the sand when he was cold enough to quit.
The dad pushed a red stroller on the hard, wet sand close to the water. The mother strolled alongside. The wee baby hid from the sun. How did they get through the soft, squishy sand?
He rode a bicycle down the boardwalk. A little girl in a pink helmet and bare legs sat behind him. What if she fell asleep?
A pale, skinny girl in a bikini walked down the beach with a tall, skinny guy. She ran out in the cold water, got really wet and smiled. He kept walking and she caught up. No t-shirt, no towel. She did it again, smiling. He kept walking in his dry t-shirt.
Little dogs walked with their people. They took busy steps while the people strolled. That’s what happens when your legs are short. It’s hard work to keep up.
Amma Ponders 