A Special Place

A Special Place

The stone cottage by the sea with its sparkling solid granite block walls is where I can feel all is right with the world. The clocks stop. Time stands still. The cares and worries of everyday peel away into silence. The world will keep on turning without my input for this short while and I can feed my soul from the murmur of the tide washing on the shore, the ring of bicycle bells as people pass by in friendly salute, the chattering demand of gulls bickering over crab remains thrown out by the fishermen.
This is a dream world. Solid and yet unsubstantial. Time will no longer stand still than the melody in a piece of music. You can hold the pause but eventually you will be swept along to the next phrase, the next crescendo.
I put on my swimsuit and walk down on to the beach picking my way over the dry rolled seaweed of high tide. I walk the sand of the tide line noting the entry and exodus of each wave turning a fresh crop of pearly shells in its wake. The sand bubbles in places where sea creatures hide, breathing unseen. I bend to pick up the tiniest delicate shell the size and shade of my babies fingernail. This is substance. This I can hold and take and keep in the cut glass pink salt. It can be mine always. My own dear heart quietly contented.

The copyright of this post belongs to Holly Khan