Walking, listening to the waves pound the sand, alone. Gulls calling, watching, while sailing by. Water crashing all of the wrongs, all of the failed good intentions in my head. Its cold and I feel the brisk, moist air brush my face and hair as it works its way inland. The pelicans skim across the water, oblivious to anything but their hunger. It seems an easy existence, and yet, hunger, in any form, can be torture.
I sit on the berm, close to the waterline, and look out at the fog bank on the horizon. I think about each one of them, my people, their pain is palpable, each in their own way. They are lost, caught in the rip tide, struggling to swim towards land. I am helpless, lost, too. I tuck my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them. I hold tight, trying to keep the scream from escaping.
As the wind picks up, the seabirds come to shore, flock together, heads tucked into the wind; as it should be. I turn my head in the other direction and notice a gull walking towards me. I lay my head on my knees and watch him. He walks, hesitantly, to within a couple of feet of me, turns to face the sea, and settles himself into the sand. His head cocks as he eyes me, top to bottom. I feel a surge of wonder, of forgiveness. A smile swells in my heart and rises to my lips. We both close our eyes.