July 30: To Write or Not to Write

On most beach walks, I bring a book and a writing pad and the best intentions to be "productive" in my new life as a writer, and yet.... the beauty and magnitude of the sea simply tells me to shut off the part of my mind that forms language. I long for quiet, for just being right here, right now, with nothing between me and the Sea... well, except for swimming goggles so I can see underwater and a bikini when the tide is low and there are too many boats out on summer weekends. So I am questioning this whole project of this beachwalk blog since time at the beach is too precious to be spent writing.

By its very nature, writing takes me away from experiencing the here and now, the persistent lapping of the incoming tide, the gentle summer breeze scented with warm seaweed, ripening blackberries, and dry cedar... the cawing of the crows, croaking of the herons, and strange squeaking of the bald eagles, the din of a powerboat barely visible... the muddy sand drying on my toes, the cottony seeds floating down the beach on the incoming tide, the iridescent green of one kind of fresh seaweed and browner green of another, and the almost tropical turquoise of water over a rare patch of sand, or the deep azure blue in the open channel....the gentle touch of waves, the subtle pull of the current, changing direction with the tide, and the playful fingering of long seagrass reaching and sometimes entangling me as I swim along the shore...the warm and cold of different layers of water, air, wind, and sand in the immediacy that only a naked sunny summer day can gift us...