She sits on warm, coarse sand.
land meets water
waves gently lap at toes.
The sand, an exfoliant to tired feet,
a melting disc floating on the horizon.
Sitting on the warm, coarse sand, the days heat slowly gives way to the cool night.
The in-between: land and sea and sky.
In between the physical and spiritual.
The decision making.
The colours of the setting sun dance and flit on gentle waves.
Tired feet, lapped by hungry waves.
A pause to simplify. To meditate.
There are no expectations here.
Soak in the salty air. Bask in the dusk.
In a world of fasts. I need to go slow.