A Walk at Low Tide

I have been in a kind of fallow period. The past two days have been gentle ones. I needed a break from doing and needed to focus on being. I took a short walk at low tide on the trail in Woody Point. It is only minutes away from where I am staying and is usually quiet.

The first thing you see on this walk is a small cemetery--

white markers scattered and solemn,
bleached and wind-scrubbed,

look out over the bay

I am always struck by the way that cemeteries here are positioned on the water's edge. They  have excellent views, on one hand, but their location also puts them firmly in the elements. Salt wind scours the headstones so that they remind me of the bits of china and glass I find on the beach, edge-worn and soft.

they keep watch over the wrack line,

falling in step beside me

as I shuffle through the stranded seaweed