It’s predawn and I stand at the shoreline listening to the incoming waves as they surge then fall and crash into the beach. The faintest of light coming from the sleepy pier a few hundred yards away. A crisp sea breeze carries the briny smell of the ocean along with it. The morning tide is rolling in and inching closer and closer to my buried feet with every wave as it crests then recedes. At this moment, on this stretch of sand, it’s just me and the ocean. The “old man” and the sea.
The ambient darkness of the night sky starts to lighten as the sun prepares to rise. I can hear the distinctive calls of the laughing gulls as they awaken and take flight for their morning forage. The low tide has blanketed the beach with an abundance of seashells and mollusks. A smorgasbord of breakfast delights for the birds.
One by one, surfers quietly descend on the beach with longboards under arms. Fishermen cart their tackle box’s and rods and reels toward the pier.
As the rest of the world stretches and yawns and wakes for the day, I close my eyes and listen once again to the surf and reflect on the journey that has brought me to this place. A quest for inspiration and spiritual fulfillment. Both of which I have found right here. With my bare feet in the sand.
johnparrishtravels 