There's dew on the railing. A mountain of sand before me. I rub my eyes, clutch my yoga bag and head straight for her.
She's vast, open and lush with sea foam.
She's deep, harsh and scary, too.
I spread out my mat along the crystal sand specks along her shore and stretch my arms out to her, wanting her to wrap her arms around me. I breathe in everything she offers, and it is everything.
I sit. And wait.
Wait for the quiet inside to squelch even the sounds of her crashing waves, a sound I dream about, a sound I long to hear over and over. Seconds. No, no minutes, pass. Hours, maybe.
And then it happens.
Peace. A smile. Lost tension. Light as a feather. Filled with nothing but sea salt air, and compassion.
And a profound respect for my God, Mother Earth.
Then, like magic, I turn and we continue building the most awesome sand castle around.