Crossing Breakwater

The continent’s last narrow strip of land stretches out in a six mile barrier of embrace. Its only connection to solid land is a long trail of boulders placed one upon the other, a half mile bridge over shallow wetland water. Two lighthouses stand witness on opposite ends of the island. They extend their continual gaze over the dark ocean muck, at once saying, “Welcome back to land” and “Stay away.”

Along the rocky bridge of breakwater, children search for crabs. They capture the hapless creatures with nets and drop them into buckets of water. Seagulls move closer, waiting for the children to surrender their catch to opportunists.

This is what the world can be at low tide: Effortless. A clear path ahead, a memorable trail behind. Big luminous clouds overhead hide the sun for a moment and no human voices interrupt the roaring silence of the ocean. Boats sail by, and yes, the world is full of love.