Eight long months have passed. Finally, the moment I have been longing for. I’m standing at the edge. I am home. Water. Sky. Frigid spring sand cradling my white winter feet.
It happens to be Earth Day, but that is just a coincidence. I am much more interested in the ocean than I am in the earth right now.
I call myself a mermaid who accidentally found herself living in the mountains. Over the almost twenty years since I left Cape Cod, the only thing more troubling than a landlocked existence is the way I’ve almost stop noticing the dull ache of my separation from the sea.
But finally, I am here. And I feel… nothing.
Maybe it is because my head is full of stories that are about everything but the natural world. Perhaps it is the habitual lack of sleep that makes it hard to be present in the moment. A lot of my distraction is due to the effort it takes to keep a two year-old from falling into the freezing cold water while she tries to wade after sister.
Either way, I feel like a failed mermaid and an Earth Day flunkie.
Luckily, the Bay will be there tomorrow. The sky and the sand and those squawking gulls will be too.
The Earth and her waters and her ceaseless winds have a way of forgiving us not matter how many times we forget and lose our way.