The Wind Calmed Down
Slowly the wind ceased to blow so very hard. The winter front that brought this weather had past over us and gone to the South, bringing a colder temperature to them as well. Now the sky still showed the leftover of it, but the sand was settled in, the afternoon turned toward the last hour of light of the day.
An indication of the color that the sun might paint was already visible in the distance. But the beach was still without life: no birds, no people. I love it when I own the beach like that, it felt like I discovered it all by myself. The foot prints I saw were only my own. The dragon had not visited the tip of the island, only strong waves were pounding there.
Wind And Sea Oat Dance A Walz
As I walked on and turned towards the dunes where the sea oats grow, I saw in the circle that was drawn around the plants from the dance they had had with the wind. Round and round they painted their movement into the rain pocked sand.
And a sea gull had left a little present for me. I picked up the moist feather and marveled at its structure, the fine detail and the strength of it. On the beaches there are always a lot of feathers from many different birds, some people collect them and decorate their hats with them. I collect the large feathers of the pelicans and paint them with interesting patterns, just for the fun of it. But I did not find a scale that I had hoped the dragon might have dropped. Oh well, so it is with fantasies. I turned around now to get home before dark but kept looking back to see if a nice sunset would develop.
The Gray Day Turned Into A Pink Day
As I headed back towards home, I kept turning around to watch the sun. The colors had shifted from gray to porcelain blue and hues of pink, translucent colors of freshness. No thoughts of the dragon entered my mind any longer. Now I saw sweetness there and gentleness, soft touches of fairy wings. Wings of the water fairies that live in the foam of the waves. I think they love to swim there and splash so hard that all waves carry a white crown.
I stopped under the canape of some dripping pine trees, their barks almost black with an eery steaming halo around them. I did not feel good there under these trees. Perhaps my thoughts on having these particular trees invading our natural habitat makes me uncomfortable. So I took a quick look once more towards the West and headed onward.
Gloriously Painted Stripes
Shortly before I reached the path home, the sun had painted gorgeous stripes onto the sky. I marveled at the strength of color appearing after such a gray day, but that is how it is here in Our Secret Paradise.