Morning Mercy

Walking toward the shoreline, the sand feels cool and some how fluffy under my feet as it tantalizes my toes. It’s a beautiful morning. A soft breeze flutters over my skin; none of the heat of the day is present yet. There are only a few people walking the shoreline, quietly lost in their own thoughts, taking in the beauty around. There’s no hurry here: nothing to be done, nothing to figure out or plan for. There’s no need for anything but to just be.

I roll out my grass mat and drop my bag, but I don’t give it a second glance. My toes want to feel the water. A kaleidoscope of tiny shells scatters across the compacted wet sand, creating a pretty picture, somehow made even prettier as the crystal water washes over them.

I can just stay right here; no need to go further. Yet, I must know what the water feels like…

Engulfing my ankles cool and refreshing, each wave rolls in, bringing the surface up to kiss my knees.

Just ahead of me, the sun reflects off the sand appearing lighter than it is where I stand.

“You don’t need to go to that sandbar. You didn’t prepare to get wet. There’s nothing you can see there that you can’t see here.”

But what if there is?

Another wave crashes; the next is still out in the deep. “I can make it across while the water is low…”

 Three steps forward, and then the fourth lifts me up. The water once again laps at my ankles. That sneaky second wave came in quicker than I anticipated. My shorts are wet now. It was worth it.

There’s just something about being lifted up to the water’s surface and yet surrounded by the deep. A bit farther from the shoreline now, I’m away from the others walking by. I’m only aware of the sky and the sea.

I do a few stretches, fully taking in the moment, drinking in the salty air. Stretching my neck and traps, I turn my head to the right, and then to the left. I see that the sky is painted a duskier hue in this direction. The sun is filtered by heavy, rain-filled clouds, giving the sky a dreamy, blurred effect. The filtered rays glisten silver across the water’s surface.

Peace washes over me… Perhaps I would’ve missed this beautiful view if I hadn’t crossed the deep.

I stroll back to my seat, settling onto my mat. A parade of seagulls meanders across the sand behind me, zigzagging one after another. I lean back on my elbows, looking over my shoulder as the last two of the progression pause. One looks at the water and then at me, cocking his head questioningly.

“Good morning to you,” I think to him as I smile.

The caboose looks my way, walking along drunkenly. He lifts left foot taking a step, but lands on a tiny heap of sand, toppling him sideways. He embarrassingly scampers on toward his friend. They fly away.

The sun has warmed its way through the cloud coverage, and its hot rays encounter my left shoulder. The day beckons. I prepare to gather my things to go.

“Good morning!” a silver-haired gentleman passerby calls out.

I glance up and return his “Good morning.” I look back to my gathering, but sense his pause.

“Remember,” he says, “His mercies are new every morning,” then walks on.

“I never forget it !” I call after him.

It’s time to get going. Monday calls. Let’s start this week.

Morning is a wonderful time to be still and know. Thank you for joining me. I’m looking forward to sharing more of these times with you.