Feeds my soul. I see the water. It is grayish blue. It makes me think of far horizons and possibilities. I focus on where I am now. That one thing that I can do. And I do it well, like those sea ducks, which shed their soft downy baby feathers naturally, for others to grow that will allow them to soar.
I find myself out on the beach where the seagulls have been. I feel the grains of soft sand under my feet now as I didn’t before. I feel the sensation of walking propelling my body, at last. How good it is. I notice tire marks on the beach, the trail of a working man, driving a sand tractor. As I scan the miles of empty beach, I see feather-like grass growing upon a thousand hills of sand.
I feel hard rocks beneath my feet, I see mica, glinting in the sunlight, which sparkles off reflected light from the sea. I spot a snowy egret, hunting dinner, his feathers blowing in the wind. I hear waves gently rolling against rocks on the jetty shore. I feel the granite rock beneath me, even though, as a stroke survivor, my body is supposed to be lacking in sensation.
I sense and hear the call of the seagull. I see a fisherman going home with his daughter. I feel the shape of the electronic recording device, feel its weight, which is in my left hand. I wonder where these new gifts of technology and meditation on the sea will lead.
As I scan, I see way out on the horizon, a tiny ship which is moving further and further away, or maybe it is standing motionless trying to feel and sense what is around it, like me. These are some of the gifts which I get from watching and feeling the sea. As I leave, I see a girl with red hair, feet crossed on the same rocks. She is watching the sea too. I wonder where the gifts of the sea will lead her.