A morning walk on the beach. Water, rocks, pine trees. The waves and their sound lull me into peaceful strides, close enough to the water to feel the chill and the swoosh without changing my pace.
The rocks allow me to stop for a moment and breathe deeply.
A small summer creek winds around them before spilling into the ocean.
I can step here, and there, and my shoes will stay dry, I think.
Or, I can take my shoes off right here, and go barefoot.
I do. The sand is warmer than I anticipate. My toes are buried now and then. In some places, the wet slime brings another smile on my face,as I remember a mud bath somewhere in a hot tub. Where was it, I ask my companion, when we decided to have mud baths?
He says, we never did!
I smile again. It must have been before the two of us, other times, other lives.
Before the walk is over, I'm all tired, all wet, my heels and soles have been treated to a great scuffing procedure, and I'm back in the wheel of life, hungry, wandering how far the restaurant is.
