BeachAlert File #8

I get to the beach half an hour later than usual.  Dawn has broken.

The streetlights are off, and the local power plant is already making smoke.  The cloud cover is gone.  The sun is peeking over the rooftops of the pretty little houses lined up along the Strand.  I can see sailboats along the horizon.  Morning has begun.

It’s like being late for work; except here, nobody’s going to look at you funny.  This is the beach.

I haven’t been here in a few days, so it may take a little time to get my happy little groove back.

“Hello, birds.   Hello, all you happy little clams.  I’m ba-ack!  Did you miss me?”

“Not particularly,” the happy little clams cheerily reply.

“Oh, don’t mind them.  They haven’t learned manners yet,” says the big little happy little clam.  “You see, out here things come and things go, like the tide,” he instructs.  “They just thought it was the natural way of things for you.”

Yeah.  Maybe it was.  Work and other obligations used to keep me away all the time, until I learned how to carve out some time for the really important things in life.

Look at that surfer.  What a nice long ride he got.  Yet the ocean is almost flat today.  All the rest of the surfers are just sitting there on their boards.

A perfect wave is what you make it.

Lynn Fountain Campbell

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