The Atlantic Tide
This morning my Bogs walked through the Atlantic tide. I walked three miles on Pine Point Beach, watching the waves, a surfer, and lots of dogs fetching sticks. I found a live sand dollar (a first for me), some brown sea glass, and some colorful clam shells. This afternoon we drove four and a half hours west and were landlocked once again. The dog was happy to see us, but I sure wasn’t glad to see the snow.
Close to seven and it is still light out; we had a time change today. Is it greedy to have a wonderful environment to live in and still want to be somewhere else? I imagine myself living on the coast and coming this way to visit. How much would I miss it all? Could I stand to be away from family? That’s why I wrote Peace Cottage, to live vicariously through a woman who does move to the Coast, and does make occasional trips back. It’s not all perfect at the beach–I know that. At the same time, the ocean and I must share the same frequency, because that’s where I feel most relaxed, the most restored. And from that place of rest, I feel like I can do anything.