Small waves rolled in on a regular basis as if controlled by a metronome. Gentle waves, lazy enough to loll you to sleep in a beach chair, just loud enough to encourage day dreams. A cloudless day and gently breeze made a walk on the beach irresistible.
Serenity was everywhere … except the shore line, where the surf ends and sand begins. Even on a calm day, this little piece of the world is in constant chaos. Always moving in or out, the shoreline is turbulent, depositing new treasures and withdrawing others with each new wave.
I couldn’t tell if this sea star was alive or dead; it was gone before I knew it. The surf swept in and covered the sea star like a magician with his cape, then the surf rolled back and “Poof!” it was gone. Just like dirty dishwater going down the drain.
Thought for the Day: Water, taken in moderation, cannot hurt anybody. Mark Twain