Beach Board Arm Head

Asilomar State Beach, Monterey, California

I stood and watched the beach, the sun reflected off the rough surface of the water, a child built sand with his mother, lovers held hands and surfers walked with a board under an arm or on a head. And it’s all fine and beautiful, and the eternal shadow falls across the experience, and the bitterness makes the moment even sweeter, and the knowledge breeds appreciation and humility. The rough surface of the big picture, its touch, and embrace, and the inescapable fleeting beauty traces the moment. Sharing time with the sober reality of the blackness guides me to the outlying edge where I grasp, but then let go because I know I can’t know, and belief is just pretending like a child’s make-believe game, and all of that seems so trite, and the edge of the edge slips closer, and the realization can’t be ignored, so I let go and merged with it all. The separation was only a mirage.