The ocean roared, a far blue canvas hurrying out to
meet the sky. I closed my eyes and heard its murmuring voice, loud, soft, sweet
and sad, heavy and grim, laughing and whispering. Fingering a strand of dark
hair, I sighed at its hopeless saltiness. Everywhere around me was the essence
of the sea.
The far off cries of laughter and shouts tickled my
ears, but I pushed them quickly away. I had no room in my soul for humanity on
this sunny seaside afternoon. They, with their pressing problems, and speeches,
invaded my autumn rains and my winter tea-times, my spring smiles and my bridal
Junes. Even my sprinkler and Popsicle Julys were consumed with the sounds of
human voices. But August is a month which belongs to its own endeavors.
While here, in this magic place, I set myself free
from the responsibilities I normally owe to other people, and I devote myself
to the full time occupation of refilling my empty soul.
The beach is truly the best spot for soul-filling.
There is something truly miraculous about that roaring mass of gray-blue ocean.
Its allure is stronger than the tugging of the moon on the tides. And
everywhere the eyes can look, there is some new treasure to discover.
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