Here we begin or end most days on the shore, and sometimes, on the best days, we do both. We may look for bits of sea glass or unusual stones in low tide, spend a gusty afternoon with sand biting our ankles at the insistence of the wind as we run to the water laughing and out of breath. We may gather up the well-worn beach chairs and find a spot to sit with a book until the restless sun seems to grow weary and surrenders to the moon.
Lately I have felt a need for more time like this. More unhurried moments and unscheduled days. A continued Facebook sabbatical. A clearing for something unknown to unfold and the stillness to discover what that may be.
I recently came across this poem and am reminded of the magical way words can call out to us when we most need to find them.