Yesterday I combed the rocky beach with my family in tow. A layer of fog drifted over the shore and out toward the horizon where it vanished as a sail boat glided one way and a fishing boat motored the other way. The fog horn sounded from the point, a deep soulful bellow that caught my attention and sent chills up and back down my spine.
Surrounded by my family, the ocean, mist and the occasional swooping gull. Skipping rocks, exploring tide pools, bouldering slippery sea-grass covered rocks. I inhale strongly with the intention of breathing everything about this moment into the depth where my soul dwells. On the exhale, excess breath will evaporate as it should leaving only a blissful tattoo of a memory on the inside of my heart.
Bits of seaglass, shells, polished rocks, a feather -lucky charms- resting in my palm as we walked the verdant path back to our car. It is at ocean's shore where I can let it go - whatever needs letting go of, and I did.
My chest felt wider and capable of more. I licked the briny air off my lips as they curled and formed a smile from the satiation. I looked up at the sky and whispered, thank you.
written in maine