Summer Days in Laguna
Crystalline currents pirouette feet from sand glossed with sea foam. Waves roll with eternal dedication, a lifetime commitment to shoreline glazing. In their deep mineral burrows, crabs dimple the sand with each swell of retreat.
Porous cliffs stand tall against winds. Squalls. Time. They cast dawn shadows and bask in evening gold. Plants succulent with aloe and agave sprout from the bluffs, a voyage in time to Jurassic wonders. Petal vines of all the reds tumble down rocks. Gulls and pelicans alike dive nose-first into the breaking blue.
Fortunate skins freckle and tan. Unprotected by silk creams of white, they crisp beneath a sun closer now than ever before this year. Warmer. Stronger. Eager to reunite with children of the solstice. It burns holes in the sheets of marine mists.
Hands wrinkled, leathered, and smooth as stones scoop sands of things once mighty. Eroded by age. Timeless by nature. Particles of them attached to hands, to bodies, to souls of a new era.
Eyes coast sparkled surfaces to glimpse the future, in search of the curve that bends today into tomorrow, an infinite span of possibility on the horizon, no answers to questions, most satisfying to busy minds, and a lure to those curious.
Tides climb and fall like suns, water travel from lands of ice or forests of lime, or coastal dunes birth an unfamiliar landscape with the sweep of the night. Never the same beach as last time. The beach, a fortress of memorial bits, life’s fragments braid into the grains and washes of past, present, and future. A haven for memory, reliance, and permanence in the surf’s motion, a found moment of serenity in the world without pause, a discovery of the unknown, waiting on the edge of the hereafter. The day’s soak in times lived and unlived a remedy.