My beach is a river beach. It does not feel the gentle southern breezes that
waft over the Gulf of Mexico, unlike this beach
on Sanibel Island in Florida, which does.
When I look over the water, the far shore I see is a small Ontario dairy farm. I don't see million dollar apartments owned by billionaires in Naples.
Their luxury towers look like tiny lego blocks defining adult play along the horizon. That's not what I came to see though. This is:
This incredibly artful arrangement is by Nature. And it changes every minute or so of every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year
...you get the picture.
These are creatures and tiny treasures I don't have on my beach.
They're worth travelling 1000's of miles to see.
Some things you can hardly see...
...like this lovely little plover who blends so perfectly, she's almost invisible. Or the small flock of gulls who instinctively turn into a soft gray and white cloud hiding in plain sight on the beach from the eagle's eye overhead.
This jelly fish is the ultimate surprise on the beach ...it just sits there, looking phlemgy and disgusting. Step on it? Never! Providing I see it first that is.
On my river beach, the jelly fish wouldn't win the ugly competition, although they are green and slimey.
A twig on the edge of the beach moved. Not a twig after all.
Ah, Nature, you are so clever!
A beach is a place where I can get lost and find myself.
By looking without, I become calmer within.
It is the small things that bring the most joy.
It doesn't have to twinkle above you for you to make a wish.
