The Fall of Summer
Yesterday, the walk from my office to the car was sweaty, stifling, suffocating.
Yet, standing in the surf this morning there is almost a chill.
The lukewarm water contrasts my skin as well as my soul. In a way that I can no longer tell if it is cold or just wet.
I know by next week I'll want my wetsuit, or I'll be done with the season all together.
The ocean feels vast today. Like a giant hug before a long departure.
The water is choppy and the wind is steady, making ripples across the surface that do not cease.
It's my favorite kind of day. The ocean feels strong and dominating. I stand on shifting sand, with buried feet. Her salty splashes taste like kisses. She tosses me to and fro, and I let her. I stand in sway, waiting for the moment when her strength surpasses mine and she sends me under. Total submission.
The moment finally comes, complete surrender. She covers me completely. Apart from a subtle sting in my eyes there is just comfort. I lay motionless, floating beneath her surface, given to her. At her mercy. Not in a way that I won't resurface. In a way that I am momentarily weightless and at peace. In a perfect moment of existence. My endless want no match against the endless sea.
Until finally, I am obliged to come up for air.
There is the wind. Turning follicles into land-minds against the wetness of my skin. All I can hear is the water slapping my skin and the acoustic resonance of the wind against my ears.
I'm almost alone out here. The summer crowds have retreated to their routines. The locals leery of morning light and changing currents. To me it all feels normal. Like a walled off child raised in trauma, I never take into account her threat.
Despite a record high on the horizon, I can feel the changes are already offshore. Soon my feet will be buried beneath crunchy fall leaves. Warm coffee will touch my lips. The acoustic resonance will be that of crackling embers lofting in air, as the fire all but burns my skin.
And thought there are people in the distance, I feel momentarily alone. This summer has made me dark, in more ways than one.
