overflowing

It starts about this time of year. Late afternoon trips to the beach, after the crowds have gone home. We arrive as dozens of families leave with weary sand clad looks... sopping towels and dripping bathing suits.


We wade in waist deep, waves splashing our shoulders and backs. The tide goes out and the waves subside.  Each waves clouds the ground below, leaving behind a still sea for seconds at a time. Long enough to catch a glimpse at treasure below and dive a hand down. Holding breath and closing eyes in case a wave rolls over a head. A sand dollar is found. A clam shell. A rock that looks like a stepping stone. We hold hands and he jumps, she stays back a bit... still unsure. She likes July beach days for swimming, when she's gotten her sea legs back. He never looses his sea legs. I have no choice but to keep my sea legs ready.


As the tide rolls out we find ourselves enjoying the same 4pm sunshine as we did a year ago, the sun warms us and the waters seem mild. I can sit in the shallow bits, little waves rolling over my legs, and my breath and eyes needn't be held or closed to gather ocean treasures. They are abundant and spilling.

My cup overflows.