Alone on the Shore

There were a few years in my life when February wasn’t cold. During the weeknight evenings I used to go on a walk in my sandals. I left my dorm room and would walk through the dark campus, across the Little Circle and down the main road past the PCC and the McDonald’s. I would enter the pass that cut between two beach houses because there is no such thing as private beach property in the state of Hawaii. A public easement exists for access to the beach at all times for all people. As I walked, I could hear the waves long before I could see them. I always was amazed at the waves, as they rolled their never ending push to the shore. No matter what day or time from before the beginning of time, the small waves of the Leeward side of Oahu came ashore, beckoning come to all who would hear. At night on my walks in Hawaii, I would sit and listen to the waves and look up at the most brilliant sky of stars I have ever seen. I would think, plan and remember. I listened to music. I sat in silence. I even shed a tear or two while there on the dark beach, alone, my feet buried in the fine sand. At times, I walked where the earth met the sea, but most of the time I sat or stood in the same general area and pondered. On the stretch of beach I frequented I could be free from the nighttime array of lovers and troublemakers further up the shore. I could be alone.

My life is different now, with a busy job and young family. February is always cold now and I have nowhere to walk, to be alone, to stare at the stars shining down across the eternal restless sea.

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