The Beach

Warmth radiates from this place as if it is a beating heart, the most vital organ of the arena. As the glaciers and ice sheets begin to melt in the thaw, returning to the already large body of water, the waves churn and lap at the shore. What should seem like a storm, or a flood, is actually not so bad. As if programmed to handle the change, the endless stretch of water only pulses and brightens as its dark waters clear, the surface glistening in the early morning sun. As the churning ceases, the sand grows hot and pleasing under bare skin, and the swaying trees in the distance behind you now carry a warm gust of air through their branches. As if holding a long breath, the world seems to finally exhale around you. The splashing sounds of aquatic creatures and the calls of sea birds signifies that this portion of the arena has returned to life. Terrible things have happened here, but you could almost pretend that it was all a bad dream, washed away in the ever changing tides. But you know what's down there in the depths, hiding beneath all that false beauty. Even if the seasons change, the truth of who you have become remains resolute.