Constant.

With each shade in God’s sky, a new day arises. Every morning I walk the water’s edge anticipating what He has planned out for my day. Over the years, I have learned to start my morning this way; praying as the sand pushes from my feet and the ocean water cascades over the footsteps I have left behind. I always try to gaze at the horizon, trying to capture every moment of the show God has portrayed. With each passing minute the clouds move and the colors change and swirl. I have to be careful not to miss one second. 

Although, I could stay on this sand forever, my career calls my name and pulls me from the beach. Throughout the eight hour grind, I reminisce on the sunrise that started my day. After the rat-race of a day I come back to my place. I come back to where I need to be. 

 This is a place where I feel at peace, a place closest to God. He gave me this place, He gave me this constant, to give me peace and keep my faith. 

Young Hearts

They quietly tiptoed past the sleeping homes along the street. With each step they were closer to the beach and further from the shared vacation home. Both giggled as they made their way over the tall dune, anticipating the sand and waves. Nostalgia swept over, reminding them of their high school-sweetheart past and how they would sneak out late at night and not come back until well after morning.

Nighttime still swept over the beach, but the roar of the ocean was just as prominent in the dark as it was in daylight. A makeshift bed, composed of an old blanket and extra flannel shirts for pillows, gave them the perfect spot to enjoy the stars. On their backs they pointed out the constellations they could remember and giggled at the ones they would make up. With each passing minute they re-fell in love with one another as if it were their  first date all over again. Here they were almost twenty years later and still they made it a point to act like kids, just to keep the fire going.

While the stars burned and the crabs scurried through the sand, they lay there enjoying one another’s embrace, hoping this moment wouldn’t end. They talked and laughed well into the morning, until they knew they should go back before everyone wondered where they were, or had been. The sun began to take over his shift, shooing the moon and stars, and reminding them of the time they planned on going back. Instead, they stayed where they were watching the sun bust through the horizon, causing a cascade of colors to sweep across the sky.  How could they leave when everything was so perfect?

Woman and Sea

Desire to beat the odds coursed through her veins. She wanted to defeat the naysayers and all the garbage they threw from their mouths. She is strong, independent, someone everyone should aspire to be like. Push the odds, embrace the fall, and rise with a keen edge, was her game plan.

She came to this place because it fueled her, gave her strength. She wanted to mimic the sea. A natural beauty that was intriguing and dangerous all at once. She wanted to be a sanctuary for people, but stand entirely on her own, just as this salty body of water. She wanted everyone to witness all of her power in an awe-inspiring way. She knew she was destined for great things. And although the battle may be hard, she would fight back harder. Like the sea, she consumed the negativity and relinquished it when she felt to do so.

The God-given strength the ocean possesses seems to rub off onto her as she struts the shore’s edge. As she gazes out onto the horizon, she knows in that moment no one can define her but God, herself, and the sea.

First Sunrise

The waves rolled and crashed along the shore. The sun peeked up from the horizon, causing the island to stir. The sunlight slowly cascaded and stretched across the white sand, giving an iridescent appeal. Shells scattered along the sand became visible,  while small crabs started back for home, not wanting to be seen. The first sunrise while on vacation at the coast, was something that could only be cherished. In this exact moment, this place and point in time, was where all of life’s troubles were thrown to the tradewinds; Content washes over and bliss settles its way in. God himself painted this masterpiece  bringing contentment and satisfaction to those who were lost in the rat-race. God’s simple act of nature moves so many with a strong, yet subtle impact.

Coastal Daydream.

Rain slinked down the pane of glass, memorizing her attention. Lost in the tantalizing drops, she dreamed of what life along the Atlantic Coast would be like some far off day. With her eyes shut she reveled in the sunlight as her hair was thrown every which way from the salty air. Waves caused the hair on her bronzed arms to stand erect with the rhythmic melody they had created. A sense of content washed over her, bringing to her attention that she was finally where her soul could call home.

A place that made the storm inside finally calm, bringing tranquility with it. gazing she could see the lighthouse beckon to the boats off the shore, calling them home, just as it did for her. in her beautiful daydream she had finally made it to somewhere in the sun. Her eyes cracked open only to find the rain still falling. A smile broke on her face as a a result from knowing at heart she would eventually come to the place of peace, to forever reside in her salty daydream.

Where I am Now. 

The sun may beat down and the sand may get everywhere, but this beats where I used to be. When I hear, “a bad day at the beach beats a good day at work,” I can’t help but smile in the honesty that line holds. In the past I wanted it all. All the money and everything it could buy. Now, I only want to be rich in experience. 

All the money in the world couldn’t buy the experiences I have had. The people I’ve met, the connections I have made, can’t be bought with money. The seashells I have collected, the waves I have ridden, and the cares I have thrown to the tradewinds just make this all worth while. 

Everyday I wake with the roaring of the ocean. Everyday I get to be where my souls feels at peace. I get to be where I can hear God speak to me. I get to be where he created me to be. 

Their Time

She gently woke to the late August, pre-autumn ocean breeze cascading into the room. The ceiling to floor curtains fluttered from the gentle motion of the crisp air. The sunlight poured through the panes of glass and danced along the sheets of the bed. As her sleepy eyes begin to focus, she noticed a coffee cup and a handmade card paired together on her nightstand.

Stretching, with a  yawn,she retrieved the card and it read: Meet me on the deck, beautiful.

She gracefully made her way from the warm covers, with her fresh coffee in hand, out onto the deck where she was surprised with a table made for breakfast for two. A smile stretched across her face. Before she knew it he had quietly come up behind her, wrapping his free arm tightly around her waist, while the other carried a tray of food. After setting down the heaping mountain of breakfast, he lead her to the table and graciously held out and pushed her chair in.

They smiled and laughed the whole way through the wonderful breakfast, simply enjoying one another. As the plates cleared and the daily, vacation morning rituals commenced, they were finally ready to make their way down to the beach. With an over-sized trio of a cooler, an umbrella, and a blanket, they were set for an entire day at the beach.

He smiled and gawked at her natural beauty and she couldn’t get enough of him as they made their way to the white sand. As the peak of the dune came under their feet, the breeze, from the surging ocean below, blew away the little beads that collected at each forehead. Blissful hours were spent searching for the perfect shells, catching waves and rays,  and simply taking in all God has bestowed on this wondrous place.

Even though the sun hung high in the sky, they made their way back to the sandy cottage to get ready for their anniversary photo shoot. The sun did them both some good, giving a natural glowing appearance. After almost a decade of being together, they figured their high-school-sweetheart romance should finally be documented with professional photos.

Smiles, laughter, and natural photogenic poses came easy to both; They made it seem easy for one another. The sun had began to set, allowing the perfect blend of hues to come together, creating a breathtaking scenery. He spun her and she kissed him with a heel popped to the sky. He slightly dipped her in the salty water and she obliged by kicking the water to the sky. Everything was going as planned and they couldn’t have produced better pictures even if they had tried.

They came together with hands clasped and lips locked, but as they came apart he accidentally slipped the promise ring, he had given her when they were sixteen, from her finger and into the unforgiving sand. She scrambled to the sand carefully sifting through, hoping one of her most prized possessions wasn’t gone forever. She was too busy to notice that he had stopped searching for the ring. He instead knelt patiently on one knee, waiting for her finally realize what he had in mind.

When she finally had the gumption to turn and look to him to see if he had any better luck, she brought her hand to her mouth in shocked amazement of his current stance.  As the question, she had been waiting to hear since they were fourteen, came out of his smiling mouth, she couldn’t help but scream her acceptance. She jumped into his strong arms and he spun her round and around. After he brought her back down to the sand, he placed the intricate ring on her finger. He also put her worrying at ease and put her promise ring, he had hid, onto her right ring finger. Her new prized possession revealed a rose gold band and a peach hued stone that was proudly placed on her appropriate finger; she couldn’t believe that this day had finally come.

Just as the sun began to sink into the salty water, they brought their lips together, reveling in the most perfect moment they could have ever imagined.

 

Seashell Mornings

  Every crisp morning I race over the dunes to catch the first glimpse of light across the white sand. In the nick-of-time, I make it to the peak just as the light begins to cascade over the beach. I am always welcomed with the tradewinds; lightly twirling my hair in a dancing motion. Standing motionless, mesmerized by God’s subtle beauties plastered across the beach, I can only seem to feel calm and as if all of life’s troubles slip into the salty breeze. 

   My joints begin to break the frozen, simplicity of my enjoyment, to send me on my reasoning for coming down here this early in the first place. Not even two steps into my stroll to the waters edge, I spy my first treasure of the day. A small, ebony shell peeks up from the sand and as I bend down to retrieve this small trinket, my eye catches another one and another one. As I continue to bend, never standing fully erect as I move, more and more shells come into sight. Finally I have made my way to where the waves kiss the shore. The weight in my old, rusty bucket pulls slightly on my arm, causing my mouth to turn up in sweet satisfaction. 

    Every day I search and search for more shells to collect. And my goal for each day is to make it to the pier before my bucket overflows. In a fortunate win-lose situation, my bucket is full before I make it to the bony structure coming out of the ocean. Regardless, I make my way under the pier to examine each and every shell I scooped up for the day.

    The sand under the pier is usually untouched at this time of day, making me feel as if this beach is mine and mine only. I spill my bucket over in childlike excitement, proudly reveling in the amount I have obtained. Each shell is different than the rest. Some may look the same but at further inspection each one has its own quirks. All are tumbled smooth from the pounding waves, but each one shows a different aspect of their endeavors. Although, they may have started out more rough and jagged, their journey to the shore left them smooth and soft. Finally when my inspections come to an end, I thank the Lord for the ability to enjoy the simplistic blessing the ocean and beach have to offer. 

The Only Way of Life

There is a place that God himself created for the laid back and the worn down. Whether it is along the coasts, on the islands, or even in the secluded lagoons, there is a place where only a special type of person can enjoy life to its fullest potentials. These places carry with it a little magic that gives its permanent and temporary inhabitants a sense of fulfillment with the world. Most people can never experience the wonders that this lifestyle carries with it, and to those I raise my glass in hopes that one day, while in the clouds, they’ll be able to experience these wonders they missed while on Earth.

A perfect explanation to this lifestyle cannot be relayed by message, only wondrously experienced, making these places so much more exhilarating and organic. Whenever I’m asked as to why I obsess over something such as a salty body of water, I can only describe it with a smile; it’s my way of life, the only way of life.

The Hunt

The crisp air stung my face as I walked along the well-used path. The moon was starting to give way to the sun, letting it take its shift. I mimicked a stealth agent as I walked across the rustling leaves, dodging the fallen branches, careful not to disturb anything. Finally arriving at the tall maple I began to ascend the ladder to my hidden blind. The sun finally gave way through the clouds touching the hills of the open meadow. An hour passed with anticipation getting the best of me, then the rustling of leaves and the grunting of my prey awoke the natural born predator inside me. As quickly as the noise came it had stopped. I frantically looked around knowing it was the monster I have been tracking all season. My eyes suddenly shot to the edge of the woods as the branches of a low lying tree snapped off.

In the meadow a mature doe stood breathing heavy and fast obviously worn down from the escape she made from the rut. I knew when her ears perked he was close. In the distance the view of ivory antlers came into sight, igniting my senses. He was finally into view, prancing broadside in my bow’s sights. His massive body matched his twenty-point rack. This particular rut-stricken buck has come into my trail cam’s memory for two years only to disappear like a ghost during the season.

Every hair on my body stood erect as the adrenaline coursed throughout my veins. My breathing became labored as I waited for the right chance to release my razor edged arrow. I allowed him to let out one last breath that vaporized in the crisp autumn air. A single bead of sweat escaped my pore to run down the edge of my tautly clenched jaw. I let my fingers relax from my waxed string, releasing the arrow to cut through the air. With one blink he jumped kicking the air as the blood escaped from the exit wound. With that, I knew death had taken over his body. With one last sprint he tried to run from his fate, but alas the blood loss got the best of him and he lied down in a stumble. A rush of victory overcame me as I knew I ended the King’s reign. When death had settled him I ran to his side to look at the trophy I had just claimed. Two years of hard work and perseverance had shown in the deer, making me, a woman, to harvest one of the largest bucks in the entire state.