Hiking along the trail to the beach, I hear the thunder of the waves, long before I see them.
At the end of the boardwalk, I stand in awe. The waves are huge and relentless, pounding against the shore. There are steps down to the beach, but I won’t be following them. The roaring fury of the waves reigns supreme here. They slam onto the shore, fearsome and massive. Above the beach though, on the boardwalk, I’m safe.
The surf dashes my thoughts back at me. This is not the peaceful joy of sunrise or the thoughtful splendor of sunset. This is more. I am alone with the power and the glory. This is majesty! I wipe the salt spray from my camera. How do I express the raw, wild power of this place? But then I realize it’s not the place; it’s the feeling of presence. There is a presence here with a power much greater than I.
The waves rip and charge across my viewfinder. There - light dances as they curl. Take the pictures. Time disappears into the lens of my camera. I step out of myself.
Awed by the magnificence, I walk back to my car. I wish Debra were here. A moment like this should be shared.