I am at the beach.
Can you hear it? wwwwwsh. wwwwwsh. wwwwwsh. wwwwwsh.
Smell the sharp brine of the salty sea air?
The water is clear, the sky is navy, and the sand is smooth and fine under your feet and between your toes.
We walk on the beach, carying our dinner, looking for a spot to sit, not yet bothered by mosquitoes or sand fleas.
The sand in my shoes is gritty and full of pebbles, and I have underestimated how small I now am. The pants that never fit to begin with are now sinking below my waist and I have to hold them up as we walk.
This beach is not clean, not safe to swim in, not fresh and lovely to smell. This beach is not like others I have been to. It is not like it should be in my mind. We have all come to know this and had not planned on swimming. So we sat and ate our dinners as the sand fleas ate us.
I Love Water.
I love the cool of it. I love the warmth of it. I love the flow of it. I love the feel of it through my fingers, in my hair, down my throat.
The motion and flexibility of water is comforting to me; it’s ability to fill and cover.
I am not an excellent swimmer by far, but I can at least get from one place to another with out touching the ground. I am small, and in the ocean I am easily carried by the waves. Stumbling and bouncing and being pulled away, but in the water, all movement is ballet.
Yesterday was hot. Too hot for May, a good day for the beach. We all came back to the apartment after and everyone else took their showers.
Me? I stayed by the window with the cat, waiting. I waited until they were all asleep to shower, and then I had ice cream.
I am cooler now; my hair full of water, my skin cooling after being pelted by water.
I Love Water.

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