Woods Hole is quiet in April. A few locals roam the streets, inevitably drawn out by Pie in the Sky’s coffee and scones. Lines are loose off the docks around Mill Pond, as most vessels have yet to wake from their onshore sleep, while buoys bounce in anticipation of their return.
MS 2733 BE woke up early- her bright sunset paint reflecting the gentle dance of the water. The sea on the other side of the draw bridge beckons, but the call has yet to be answered by a vessel. Until me.
The sun’s glow grows as crests of water sparkle at their peaks and approach land. Those lapping waves hit a coarse, rocky beach lined with boulders and shrubs along its edge. Keeping my distance, I wait to descend upon soft nearby sand.
Glimmers of light dot the moving frame of water that brings sediment inland, before taking some away. The ocean leaves its mark on the beach, as do those with two feet. Wind blows through my desperately long hair, and I admire, at ease, the harmony between land and sea.