I spent a glorious hour on the pier at Pensacola Beach high above the waves where you can see the curvature of the Earth on the horizon. The water was crystal clear to the white bottom. Some people floated, suspended in air it seemed, others walked far out from shore in tourmaline to emerald hues. The whole of it had no time.
Slender needlefish meandered in small schools pushing a long nose to the surface while occasional dark clouds of spawning babies twirled by under the pier and beyond – the food of the sea.
The fishermen were in dreams, the lovers strolled in silence, and the gulls and terns fell in wide turns on the invisible ocean of air, a tern diving headlong into the green sparkling jewel…
Even the hotels and noise from beachfront bars became artful additions into a masterpiece of such beauty and tranquility all present are lifted into what must be Heaven.
I come home. Was I there really? My camera is here. I download the photos. A tiny sliver of what was there is recorded for the eyes but the heart and soul remains out there, out there!
I am so going there tomorrow. How gorgeous. These are the days we treasure.
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Beautiful. . . your amazing spirit sings through your work. Thank you for sharing. . .
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