I Did What I Could Do

Again? I missed sunrise, again?

Photo: After Sunrise at Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey

Coco woke me.

Again? I missed sunrise, again?

I checked my phone. I had set an alarm for 5:00 so I could greet the sun from the beach. It didn’t go off.

Oh, come on. I set the timer twelve hours too late at 5:00 PM.

Sigh.

I let my dog out for a few minutes, then headed to greet the sun that was already floating away from the horizon.

I walked along the edge of the sea with my back to the sun, letting my wide-brimmed hat shade my eyes. The water was colder than a mountain stream. After a few steps, my feet numbed as they accepted the chill. I splashed as I walked.

The roar of the waves. The birds skipping along the shore. The sand under my feet. That cold water.

I started to relax.

They say that walking on the beach without shoes is grounding. Maybe that’s what I was feeling. In this moment, I didn’t think about my medical issues, about the pain of selling my house, about the trials of searching for an apartment that would cost more than my mortgage.

I was present. Here. With cold feet.

Cold feet is a term generally used for fear of moving ahead, as in marriage. I wondered if I was afraid of my future that had more questions than answers.

I took a deep breath, released the question and walked on.

Four young 20-something men slept at the top of the beach, each wrapped in a colorful towel, as if they were disguising themselves as early sunbathers. I smiled, remembering the trip to Greece I took back when I was young and how I slept on the beach to save money.

One popped up and watched me for a moment.

I waved a friendly greeting.

Convinced that I wasn’t working for beach security, the young man lay back down to sleep some more.

That would be a good way to guarantee I caught the sunrise, sleep on the beach.

No, thanks. I prefer bed sleeping these days.

A fish lay along the shore. Flopping. Flipping. Reaching for the water.

I found a giant shell, lifted him up and walked him into the surf before I gently released him into that cold water, between two waves.

I’m not sure if he swam away or got carried away. I did what I could do.

I did what I could do.

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Welcome to my long days. I’m glad you’re here.

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If you want to start at the beginning of my Long Days of Holly Journey, read the posts from the bottom UP. Click HERE.