The enclosed beach is silent. The celestial fireball blinds you as it emerges, rising like a glowing medallion on the distant horizon. Topaz sunbursts of light smash against the calming blue of the ocean, lighting up the sea into cylinders,.

Waves crashed over the frigid winter sand spreading it's lacy foam like the edge of a petticoat. The ocean wind blew in bitter gusts, tumbling her tousled locks behind her. The salty air lay thickly on her tongue and filled her nostrils. With her bare feet, chalky-white and goose-bumped with cold, she took a step into the icy water. The waves crashed in and over the hem of her skirt, soaking it like a rag. She took another step, and another, never taking her eyes off the empty horizon where grey sea met grey sky, as if she could will his ship to come home.

he grass has that bluish tinge I associate with the seaside, it's coarse and tough, but I love it more than the tame grass of the suburban yards. I prefer the wild look, it's free, untamed. If I were a painter I'd sit with an easel and attempt to do it justice. But instead I just let it make an impression on my memory, I want to recall everything from the soft hue to the way the stalks are made stronger with their intertwined fibres. 
out of my clothes and dash into the water. I love the feel of the water on my naked body and swim out to where it’s deep.

Doing a few laps up and down the shoreline, I stop and lay back in the water, letting my limbs do the thinking for me. The water is so refreshing. Allowing it to take all of my worries away, I stretch out my arms, open my palms and release all bodily tension when I hear someone yelling on the beach. Dropping my body below the surface, I scan the shoreline and see Brice’s huge dog bounding into the water,
I watch him walk steadily down the beach—an air of self-confidence about him. From his laid-back stride, it’s as if the uproar never happened. He glances over his shoulder, and there it is, that second glance that tells every woman a guy is interested. I beam triumphantly and turn to Laura, who is looking at me with crossed arms.
trapped inside these unmelting crystals of silicone and oxygen. Despite the heat I find myself frozen in place once my eyes take in the ocean. The waves roll in white tipped, spreading themselves like fine lace over the beach after they crash in their soft way. There is nothing noisy about them, yet they have sound. Perhaps to me it is more like the music of my childhood summers so long ago with the people I have loved and lost. If I close my eyes I can hear