This past weekend Rickey took me to St. Pete Beach for a getaway in honor of my birthday. (I am a few days short of turning 60.) We did all our favorite stuff—beach walking, swimming, sleeping, reading, eating fried shrimp, and, of course, visiting a bookstore. It is all special, but if I had to choose, I would say the very best part (except for sharing it all with Rickey) is the beach with its huge expanse of water and sandy shoreline curving and stretching away for miles and miles, and with the quirky, noisy birds, and with the ever changing clouds and with the amazing light! There sure is a lot to celebrate.
But walking barefoot along St. Pete Beach can be a bumpy experience. In no particular order, I came to expect brief patches of shoreline thick with small bits of broken shells. Somehow, I learned if I walked carefully, I could mostly avoid the pain of the pointy pieces. Although walking past these small mounds was a bit awkward, listening to the swish of waves across them was beautiful. I felt like the “Shh…” I heard was at once a description of the sound and an admonition of how to proceed. I think I finally got it—walk slowly, listen deeply. What a gift!
Message to a Beach Walker
by Anna Cotton
Sand and waves wash small
mounds of thin shells--whispering
admonitions "Shh..."
