heart for the win.
i wriggle my toes into the sand. into the earth. into this island.
i stare at the ocean. the waves. their energy, continuity, fluidity. this magical place, bringing me home. talking me into living. speaking to my heart.
i hear all its wonderful sounds – the curl of the waves into wet sand, the silence that follows. the flittering leaves of the palm trees nearby, the wind against my ear as i turn my head so slightly.
i scratch at day-old mosquito bites.
i watch a surfer emerge safely onto shore, make the sign of the cross and look to the sky.
i take a photo for a couple, two beautiful men from england. they thank me for what appears to be the most generous offer they’ve ever received. no worries, i say, surprised at their graciousness.
i watch it all float by.
cinque terre and a sweltering summer in europe. [riomaggiore, july.]