SCULPTING SANDCASTLES AT SUNSET

 

Spending a quiet, unassuming, relaxing evening writing poetry at the beach; it is just before sunset and after a summer rainstorm. Looking out from the shore like a sailor onto the lake water, watching buoys bouncing to and fro as they wait patiently for a rope to be attached to dock a boat. Yachts speeding by causing waves to zoom forth, splitting the seas.

A flock of resting seagulls all standing still, not moving, undaunted, like stubborn goats they remain firm in their stance, all alertly listening as one lone gull calls to the others loudly and sweetly. She is the leader.

Lifeguard stands are empty, no swimming right now allowed after sunset on a public city beach.

Hearing waves rushing, melodically as a softly sung song, as they brush up against a rain-saturated sandy shore, one by one, humming and swishing the sand into pools of swirling sculptural shapes.

A sunset behind me slowly sinking into the horizon to the west reflects in the soft clouds to the east. A beautiful yellow-pinkish color saturates the lower sky beneath a few lonely clouds that are poised far apart causing the sea to be a very bright deep cobalt blue in contrast to the lighter, redder colors of the sky above it.

An active girl child is running and jumping over the water's waves, barefoot, building a sandcastle just to tear it down again and then build another. Her mother is meditating as her child plays in the waves. Listening intently to the sounds of an empty beach, empty now except for the birds, and how nicely quiet they are, satisfied by their hard day's work--a day of fishing. These seagull birds are meditating too.

Kayaks are coming now from the south, decorating the sea with a bit of human life as they paddle in succession like an army. Quietude is all around except for the lifting of their paddles from the water, will be quiet until morning again when the beach will again be crowded with swimmers.

Then comes the climax: a loud frantic helicopter noisily and amazingly appears from behind a cloud, cutting with its metal into the sky over where I sit, beating his propellers and scaring all the gulls away! They all take flight like a frightened herd of elephants and move away into the dune grass seeking solace.

Now the helicopter is gone too leaving me alone on the beach without the birds, without commotion, time for me to take my leave too, to get sleep, as the red sun has now completely disappeared.