Fall Ocean

By: Brooks Wood

The grainy sand is dark and hard; it has settled into the beach with the new season. The soft white sand has come and gone with the summer. No longer do your feet sink deep into the delicate surface; they stomp on the top of the rigid surface. There is no crater where your foot once was, all that remains is a slight imprint of the pattern on the sole of your shoe. The Nike symbol is the only recognizable mark among the imprints in the sand. The sky ahead of you is dark, only a few island lights catch your eye as you pan across the otherwise dark scene. As you tilt your head back, the sky becomes lighter. The sky on top of you is lighter than in front, and the one behind you is almost fully illuminated. The sun is just barely setting now and it hangs above the trees as if waiting for you to finish your business. You walk down towards the water, the wind pushes hard against you, it presses your jeans tightly against your legs. The harsh bitter wind rips its way through the seams in your clothing and chills you deeply. The wind shoots over the tops of the waves, pushing just enough water off the top to create small amounts of foam. How uninviting the black water looks, why would anyone go closer? Yet you trudge forward. You approach the water, there is a pause as you wait for the water and it waits for you. The water crawls up the beach, dragging itself up to your feet. It just barely touches your feet, it surrounds your feet but they remain dry for the water is not high enough yet. You wait for the next wave, it comes just a little bit higher than the last and you bend down for a touch. Your fingers anticipate the freezing water and they pause just above the surface. You delicately touch the tips of your fingers in and the water holds on, its freezing grip is surprisingly enticing. It dares you to hold your hand there, and you plunge it deeper and the cold shoots up your arm into your core. How could something so cold do anything but kill, yet nevertheless it's necessary for life? Now you are satisfied and you retreat from the water. The sun has now sunk down further and it sits just above your destination. You walk up the beach, your feet crunching on the hard sand with every step. The beach is completely different in the fall: it has new wind, new sand, and new water. The summer beach has gone, and the fall beach has arrived.