Swathed in layers of sweaters
beneath jacket and gloves
I tighten my hood covering hat and ears
Wind pushing against my body
I advance to explore
The pristine beach
Bottle green ocean and cliffs of sand.
A straight line is etched in the sand
Its origin a mystery
I seek the creature who drew the line to the sea
And find a small square rock.
Stones and pebbles falling
Urged downwards by the wind
Slipping, tumbling rolling down the dunes.
Zig zags, pressed ovals, triangular marks
Patterns impressed by the weight of the earth
Returning to the sea.
I am amazed by the uniqueness of each individual trail
All temporary, easily erased by a change of breeze or tide
I bear witness in my lifetime
To the change in the silhouette of dunes and shoreline
Shifting sandbars and creation of islands
Loss of homes, cities, cultures and species
And the small wonder of lovely patterns
I witness for a moment, pressed into the sand.
—–by Nadja Maril