The first day of spring sun’s glow warms me as I leave my house for an afternoon run..
I reach the cliffs that look out over the Pacific.
I cross the street, stop, and take it in.
The trail’s edge is guarded by a railing, but the wind off the ocean holds me. I drink in deep gulps of blue air that whip off the water. My runner’s warmed body is impervious to the chill.
Most of my life I have been able to get to the ocean on foot. It has been a constant companion. An every day presence.
The endlessness of it gives me a sense of continuity.
I look out sensing the centuries of people that did the same;
and I hope that the generations after me will do the same.
I imagine the worlds hidden underneath,
reminding me of all I do not see and all I need to learn.
The power is evident in the cliffs, the rocks,
the pebbles, the sky above.
All are continually pushed, pulled, morphed by it.
I take in a last look and a step toward home, grateful knowing I will see it tomorrow.