It’s cold this evening. I am bundled up in several layers, including my bright pink hoodie from Morro Bay. Just putting it on makes me smile. It reminds me of my favorite place.
I have some pictures to edit, and so I was in my photo site on the web. Before going to the photos I need to label, I looked in my album from my trip this past summer. The album is entitled simply Morro Bay.
Sitting here in my office, wearing my hoodie, looking at pictures of familiar places, I was transported there in my imagination. I could almost smell the salty air. At this time of the evening, there would be a light mist and I would feel it on my cheeks.
Walking along the beach, the only noise would be the roar of the ocean as it crashed onto shore. My beautiful Pacific Ocean, rushing to shore, spreading fingers of foam, and bits and pieces of seashells, and then retreating back into the depths, only to come crashing back again.
Mesmerized, I stand and watch nature’s symphony. Dappled moonlight punctuates the cresting waves. With the darkness has come the cooler breezes and the fog is falling gently.
Nearly deserted, the beach seems huge, going on for seemingly miles and miles, without end. Looking northward, as I walk, I see the twinkling lights of Cayucos, the next little hamlet north of Morro Bay on Highway 1.
As the water laps closer and closer to my bare feet, the sand is more than just cool, it is cold. Looking ahead and not down, I am surprised by the wave that crashes into shore and surrounds my feet. Perhaps it is time to go inside.
As I walk back towards the Embarcadero, in my mind’s reverie, I see a couple walking toward me. They are about my age. In fact she looks a lot like me. And he has his arm around her, holding her close to him. It is obvious that they are in love, as they are completely oblivious to my presence.
The world is theirs, as they walk along the beach, arms entwined and stepping in unison. The symmetry of their movements lends credence to my supposition: they are in love and they have found each other, at long last.
The thoughts swirling in my head make me smile; the warmth of the picture I have painted in my imagination comforts me. The knowledge that such things can truly happen makes the imagery that much sweeter.
Just from looking at a picture…..
No comments:
Post a Comment