HOME | DD

Description
        The only source of light is the moon and stars. The light is now reflected twice as it glints off of the water and sand to forma light bright enough that you could run across this seemingly endless expanse of sand water and light.
       The water makes soft sounds as it plays it’s endless game of tag with the shoreline. High tide has passed, and the sand at the water’s edge has the moist compacted feel that is so familiar. The horizon is a solid line framed by the cliffs that shelter this beautiful cove.
       The sheer cliffs of black granite block out the world that I know lies beyond this beach. Those cliffs block out the world; the world and all its responsibilities, all its triumphs, all of its defeats and missed opportunities.
       The compacted sand at the water’s edge leads away onto softer, more loose sand. On this sand roughly four yards from the low-tide line, lays my blanket, the lumps in the sand somehow smoothed under this eight by five-foot square of cloth.
       As I lie down, I realize that it doesn’t matter where I am. That something is always missing. I put my head back onto the pillow and look at the stars, thinking about what makes this place perfect.
       I feel a stir next to me and turn my head to look at the cause of it. Beauty lies sleeping next to me. The short swim and the warm sun exhausted her. She stirred in order to move closer to me seeking a warmth of a different kind.
       I know that everywhere we go seems perfect that as long as we have each other nothing can go all that wrong. I put my arms around her and close my eyes. I realize then that she makes the place perfect. It is not some setting or a memory of some place. It’s her. Wherever I am, as long as she’s there also that’s where I belong.

Description
        The only source of light is the moon and stars. The light is now reflected twice as it glints off of the water and sand to forma light bright enough that you could run across this seemingly endless expanse of sand water and light.
       The water makes soft sounds as it plays it’s endless game of tag with the shoreline. High tide has passed, and the sand at the water’s edge has the moist compacted feel that is so familiar. The horizon is a solid line framed by the cliffs that shelter this beautiful cove.
       The sheer cliffs of black granite block out the world that I know lies beyond this beach. Those cliffs block out the world; the world and all its responsibilities, all its triumphs, all of its defeats and missed opportunities.
       The compacted sand at the water’s edge leads away onto softer, more loose sand. On this sand roughly four yards from the low-tide line, lays my blanket, the lumps in the sand somehow smoothed under this eight by five-foot square of cloth.
       As I lie down, I realize that it doesn’t matter where I am. That something is always missing. I put my head back onto the pillow and look at the stars, thinking about what makes this place perfect.
       I feel a stir next to me and turn my head to look at the cause of it. Beauty lies sleeping next to me. The short swim and the warm sun exhausted her. She stirred in order to move closer to me seeking a warmth of a different kind.
       I know that everywhere we go seems perfect that as long as we have each other nothing can go all that wrong. I put my arms around her and close my eyes. I realize then that she makes the place perfect. It is not some setting or a memory of some place. It’s her. Wherever I am, as long as she’s there also that’s where I belong.