The island summers of my youth rekindled my spirit. They were cool with beautiful, sunny days and calm, glassy waters with puffins, seals and whales greeting me from the sea. If it rained, it was only a drizzle, never a down pour. The smell of the wet earth was wondrous. It filled the air with the smell of life and the sea. A favorite spot was the road between our villages. It was here that the pounding waves were loudest and best heard at night. The sound combined with the smell and my own beating heart pulled me in, it made me real.
Life was balanced. The world took no notice of my presence and I could fully embrace the sway of the wind, the sound of the ocean and the twinkling of the stars. I never felt outside of the equation, but part of a whole universal system of ebb and flow. The summers were a sacrament to living, to life, and my soul thrived. That connection, filled with such admiration for the quiet, the beauty, the wonder we call life has never left my memories. It lingers as a reminder to brighten dark days.
Friday Flash ~ Flash Fiction