This
past weekend Rickey took me to St. Pete Beach for a getaway in honor of my
birthday. (I am a few days short of turning 60.) We did all our favorite
stuff—beach walking, swimming, sleeping, reading, eating fried shrimp, and, of
course, visiting a bookstore. It is all special, but if I had to choose, I would
say the very best part (next to being with Rickey) is the beach with its huge expanse of water
and sandy shoreline curving and stretching away for miles and miles, and with
the quirky, noisy birds, and with the ever changing clouds and with the amazing
light! There sure is a lot to celebrate.
But
walking barefoot along St. Pete Beach can be a bumpy experience. In no
particular order, I came to expect brief patches of shoreline thick with small
bits of broken shells. Somehow, I learned if I walked carefully, I could mostly
avoid the pain of the pointy pieces. Although walking past these small mounds
was a bit awkward, listening to the swish of wave across them was
beautiful. I felt like the “Shh…” I heard was at once a
description of the sound and an admonition of how to proceed. I think I finally
got it—walk slowly, listen deeply. What a gift!
Message
to a Beach Walker
by
Anna Cotton
Sand
and waves wash small
mounds
of thin shells--whispering
admonitions
"Shh..."
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