It’s the perfect evening for a run at Grande Mere beach; the sky is blue and the air is warm. The breeze is light, just enough to coax some small waves to form the perfect sound effect as I run near the waters edge. Right away I notice something else… it’s going to be a good night for beach glass. Two steps in, and I’m already picking up glass; a nice green one. A few steps further and there’s more color, and while I’m bending to pick that one up my eye spots another piece, a brown one trying to hide near some similar colored rocks. I might not be doing much running tonight.
Well I make it down to the Cook plant and back, with multiple interruptions along the way. My pockets are bulging with beach glass. In the midst of my focus on the hunt I have forgotten the most important part of a beach run; time to give my thoughts to God. So, for the last 200 yards I slow to a walk and tear my eyes from the sand. I had hardly noticed the peaceful sound of lapping waves on the shore, and the sun shining on the water, and the beautiful breeze. Just then it kicks up into a gust that brushes my face.
“Rushing wind blow through this temple.
Blowing out the dust within.
Come and breathe your breath upon me
I’ve been born again.”
Do I have to leave this place? It’s time to go. My long shadow leads the way up the dune trail, back to my truck.
Back home, on the kitchen counter I count out 139 pieces of beach glass, arranging them just right for maximum impact to impress Candi and Brian. I’m not disappointed by their reaction.
Posted on
Thu, April 23, 2009
by Chris Spitters