A Dot in the Landscape.

I am down on my beach in all times and in all weathers,
But my favourite moments are those like this present morning,
Moments when wild weather is on its way,
Heading towards the open strand,
Chasing clouds before it
and banishing the morning sun as the sky darkens
and the air changes.
The wind gusts in the upper atmosphere
And the clouds move at different speeds and different heights,
Racing each other out to sea.
I stand there, alone, in the middle of a vast, empty stretch of sand
With salt on my lips
And the wind in my hair.
It feels as though I am watching the world turning.
Minute by minute the sky changes,
Opening and closing,
Darkening and then spilling with light,
As the sun scuds through the clouds.
The play of light on the sea
and the wet beach constantly evaporate into new vistas,
Always changing,
Always an adventure,
Forever showing me something new.
My beach is a blank canvas where nature paints its glory,
Second by second, with brush stokes of searing flame.
A vast film set, spilling over with elation and energy,
Constructed by wind and weather
And lit by natural forces from a faraway ball of fire.
I revel in my own insignificance,
A tiny dot of life stippled in the corner of a masterpiece.


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