Seashore shadows

What a day to wander through my imagination. Through stories true and imagined, blurred somewhere along the way but still faithful.

It has always been easy for me to get lost in my imagination and let the sky and the sea talk to me. To let the grainy ripples of sand and sloshing of waves take my thoughts somewhere else and bring my subconscious up to the surface like a great upwelling from someplace deep down inside.

Wandering the beach line this morning was no different. Polished pieces of colorful sea glass beg to tell their stories. Sandpipers and gulls scatter on the breezes in tune with the waves. And wispy tendrils of clouds etch themselves tight over the deep blue sky like veins.

I gazed out at the sea and my mind was finally stunned into silence. In awe, beyond words in the vast spaces and horizon lines. I let myself get lost i those spaces, and in other. Like the stories from the book I read there on the rock jetties. My new favorite book of fiction.

Later the day shifted to non-fiction and my families own history. For hours I sat with my grandmother and let her talk, gave her company and a willing ear as an outlet for almost 98 years of meaningful living. From 1914 to the World Wars and the Great Depression we wandered. From childhood in rural Delaware to college and marriage along the eastern seaboard. And from Virginia all the way to exotic locales in faraway lands we roamed together. I recorded it all.

Before dinner - a visit to a little Mexican eating house nearby - I cruised through the boulevards by the golf course where they live. Through delicious scents of roses, pine bark, and dry fallen leaves. With the wind through my hair and the sun on my face like a caress I found myself unexpectedly back to the water. Weaving my way in and out of memories and shadows along the seashore.