I"m right on the edge of something. I want to write. I have ideas but I just can't seem to express any of them.

The other morning I woke up. It was 5:30. I had the urge to drive down to the coast and see the sunrise. I love to see the sunrise over the ocean. The ocean is 2 hours away. I just miss the sea air and the salt water so much. And sitting on the sand in my jeans and a hoody. In the predawn light. The beach is deserted and cold. I feel as though I own it, the beach, the ocean, and the waves crashing on the beach. I don't own any of it. I do own this moment. Sitting on the sand with my elbows on my knees, hands propping up my chin. My eyes close listening to the constant rumbling of the waves, rhythmic, powerful but peaceful.

And just when it couldn't become any more perfect, a tiny speck of pink or maybe orange breaks the surface of the dark horizon of water. It's always different. Always special. But it happens always, every day. Even when you can't see it, it happens. And no one can take that away.


Even right now, when I close my eyes, I am so close to being there.

Tasting the salt on my tear stained lips, and wishing it was the sea spray.