Written by Melissa Egbert for the Dark Coast Series



My constant journey leads me to the edge of the shallow seas.
Time passes with each fluid motion of the water and I wait, for
someone or something to capture a moment of beautiful illumination.

The dark coast, where birds settle on the guardrails of the pier, erected by ancient pylons,
surrounded by crashing waves of salty water brought from the furthest reaches of the Pacific Ocean.
Waves, gentle and anxious, rhythmically invade the coast, then retreat from the sinking sands
back into the flood.

I wander the coastline feeling the ocean air as the breeze cools my skin, tasting the salt on my lips.
I’ve wandered too close to the sea and it tries to pull me in, trapping my feet in the soft sand.  The
ocean slips away and in that moment, I feel connected to the transforming world around me.
The world transformed by light and water.
But the moment escapes me like sandcrabs playing and skipping out of my fingers.

As I journey toward the sun, setting in it’s night haven, the clouds have surrendered the last of their
offering to the earth, and given way to a silent calm.  I walk the coast, ever nearer to the water, until it
surrounds me, moving my body to the sway and rhythms it commands.
I feel the serenity of the world pour through me.

The light is leaving but the water remains.


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