It had rained all day and two more storms were expected. That evening we got a reprieve as the clouds parted and the full moon lit up the night sky. From our house, just blocks from the beach, we could hear the waves crash and the fog horn blare. They sounded like a train engine roaring. Excited to see the huge breakers, John and I walked arm in arm to the beach, while sharing about our days.

The sand was unrecognizable. Half of it had disappeared under water. The waves rolled in fast, one stacked on top of the other four at a time. The remaining sand was re-shaped into different patterns. Where the beach once sloped gently towards the water, there were now large two foot drop offs. White froth from the tips of the waves skimmed over the sand like desert tumble weeds. Tangled bunches of salty smelling seaweed strewn among rocks, drift wood, broken clam and mussel shells, skeletons of dead sand crabs, and lifeless seabirds. I watched each step carefully as I walked through this obstacle course. Despite the wind the air was unusually balmy for this time of year. I was comfortable in just jeans […]

By |December 10th, 2012|Grief and Loss, Transformation|

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