i believe in silence; our hearts speak the same words...
we went to the beach today, all nine of us, squishing into our suburban with only some towels and a change of clothes, and drove the three hours down to galveston island. it was ridiculously hot and when i say we were packed in there, i mean packed because that vehicle isn't quite large enough for all of us. but when we finally got there, hours later and all sweaty and disgusting, it was worth it. we spent the day there, most of us in the ocean, me and joy far out in the waves talking as we floated around, and grace up on the sand digging around for hermit crabs and such, my dad and david trying to body-surf only there were hardly any waves, and the sun and the salt and the water the waves the ocean the beach.i always have mixed feelings about being there. so many of my strongest memories are built around the beach; so many emotions are tied into it. years of my life, and so many people i've known, relationships i've lived through and loved through -- all summed up in days on the beach. to me it is leisure, and it's anger and it's pain, it's happiness and peace and love and broken hearts all mixed up in one unfathomable depth that i can't really understand.
and i love it; always, i love it.
later, when the sun had disappeared and after we had gone and eaten dinner at some fancy-schmancy restaurant (for us, anyway), we went and walked along the beach, all nine of us, one last time before we left to come back home. there was some kind of monument that had been built in a park right along the beach, overlooking the water, and we all climbed up and sat on top of it. below us was a jetty of sharp rocks, and although there was no storm coming, no sharp wind, the waves were crashing almost violently back and forth. maybe it was the smell of salt in the air, maybe it was the vivacity of the wind against me, or maybe it was the size and strength of the rocks far below us, maybe it was the force of the waves, or the way the sky above was pierced through with hundreds of tiny pinpricks of light. maybe it was the way the lights of the city behind me were reflecting upon the waves and coloring them that color which i often find in the clouds: the one i can never quite describe. and maybe it was all of that, but whatever it was, i suddenly felt dangerous and unsure, as if i were holding my breath and stepping out in to some unknown waters.
and beneath all the fear was peace.