Tuesday

Carolina Beach



Fourteen miles of soft packed sand.  With miles of beach-walking to my bare-footed beachcomber credentials, I find the seemingly endless stretches of sand and surf of the southern coast to be in a class unto themselves. The ending waves of water slip flat out onto a soft sandy beach becoming a frill of foam at their final edge.  The divisions are so beautifully balanced:  water, wave, sand, dune. The size of the waves rise to the size of the sea grape and oats filling the rolling dune on the other side of the sandy beach.  The flatness of the sand is matched to the water on the other side of the wave. A place to feel good about being a minimalist.  A place to feel good about being alive.

Baba Ram Dass, one of the great hippie guru's, became known for his three word mantra  BE HERE NOW.  Walking on the beach the water, sand and dune seem to repeat these words. All dotted and speckled with the ever present gull.  Raucous, fearless beings either belonging to the wave, or owning it.  I would be a gull if I could.  To be here now doesn't exclude the promise of future time so with that promise in mind, maybe next time.


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