22 March 2013

Trying to remember dreams

In the pre-dawn silence I walked along the water's edge, shoe's in my hand, feeling the soft lapping of the waves upon my feet. The cold was a welcome contrast against the heavy stillness of the air.  Time seemed frozen there, on the empty beach as I waited for the morning sun to rise.  My eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of light, so as slivers of orange and red and gold began to break above the surface of the water I squinted against the brightness.

Stepping a few paces back from the water, I sat in the sand, watching the colourful display unfold.  Another morning was beginning, like the day before, and the next, an endless progression of days that seemed to hold no meaning.

Things fall apart, the centre does not hold” I remembered reading somewhere, and the words fit the pattern of my thoughts, thoughts of a teenager indeed prone to over dramatizing, trying to fit my life into a poetry of sorts.

My eyes were dry and scratchy, the lack of rest cracking the corners.  One night?  Two?  More?  I couldn't remember the last time I felt the peace of sleep and so wanted to be overcome.

I had gone there alone to walk the shore, to wonder at the beauty, to find something I didn't know I was missing without knowing what that something was.  There is no treasure map to follow when you don't know what you're looking for.  My hands dug deep in the sand around where I sat, the grit of it caking under my fingernails, not chewed but picked at, leaving them sharp, short and uneven.  Sand sifted through hands that felt they could hold nothing and a heart that was learning not to try.

Then I spotted it, just an arms reach away, something catching the light in the sand.  A small piece of glass, worn smooth around the edges, a milky opaque green created by water, sand and time.  I placed it in the pocket of my jeans, rubbing it between my fingers and returned to walking the shoreline.

And all at once, there was the day, stretching out before me as I wondered, “what next?”

I was too young to have no purpose, no goals, nothing to aim at.  No course was set.  No wonder time seemed to stretch out endlessly, no scheduled separated the hours.

“I have nowhere to go and no one to be. Did I ever have a plan?”  At fourteen I paced the shoreline and tried to remember dreams.

Five Minute Friday 
joining Lisa-Jo for the word remember



Jennifer Dawn McLucas said...

Wow! Excellent imagery! :)

Nancy said...

Thanks for posting such a beautifully poignant memory!

Linda Stoll said...

as an avid sea glass collector, I just LOVE your story ... and I hope that you have continued to pick up those jewels of the sea as you find them ...

we do our best thinking, make our most milestone discoveries and choices as we walk by the ocean's edge.

diana said...

Karin - this is just outstanding writing, my friend. Outstanding. I love your poetic musings - but this may be the first time I've ever read your reflective prose. Usually, your prose is in the form of a book review, right? This is just wonderful. Did you truly do this in 5 minutes? You are a wonder - either way!! Thanks so much for this.

Denise said...

Really lovely.

Positively Alene said...

Your writing leaves me breathless. I want to be there walking with you. Love your sharing your memory.

Rebekah said...

I love sea glass..I found some as well when I was about 14. It was on a cold beach on a misty morning in the upper peninsula of MI. You brought back memories here :) Really nice writing too.

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