Change 

Sunshine and soft wind 

draw me out of the house 

and down the path to the beach, past the fire weed 

with stems standing brown and mottled in the gully bottom, 

past the brilliant yellow 

of new gorse flowers 

splashed high on the sides 

against the blue of the sky. 

Arriving at the beach 

I find change everywhere I look– evidence of tides both high and wild. Gone are the welcoming patches of smooth sand. 

Instead drifts of shingle 

scatter the shore. 

Gone is the pool of freshwater. Instead a small stream 

flows through the stones 

all the way to the sea. 

Gone is the clean fringe of grass. Instead seaweed and sticks 

are heaped in unruly piles. 

But today the sea is calm. 

The tide pools lie still, 

smooth mirrors in the rocks. 

I sit on the shingle 

and marvel at the stones 

each one unique and beautiful. I dip my feet in the icy water 

sensing its sharp bite in my bones. I feel the warm sun on my cheeks. 

The beach whispers to me 

of wind and storm 

of shifting danger 

of constant change 

of unexpected beauty. 

Can you just be,

it asks? 

Can you just love 

what is here? 

Can you just love 

what is now? 

Bridgid Normand © 2024