As my gaze crosses the gulf once more this morning, a sense of foreboding sinks into my heart. Have I been so jaded by this world that I look at a calm sea and think something is amiss. I have never seen the gulf this calm, for the fifth day in a row. The gentle waves are easing onto shore. It feels more like a lake with heavy boat traffic than the mighty Gulf of Mexico. The waves seem to be afraid of the shore. When they get here, they seem to apologize for disturbing the calm. The humidity was higher back home last week after all those days of deluge. A few dolphins chase a school of fish between the sand bar and the shore. The pelicans that normally dot the sky and sea are absent. Even the gulls and sand pipers appear to have flown to the main land. Fellow beach combers and sun worshipers are few and far between.
The scattered thunder storms this week have not been enough to raise some waves. Trying to teach my boys to catch some righteous curls on their boogie boards is extremely frustrating. We have been regulated to the shore break. With all the eeriness of the calm, the soothing breeze and quite crash sink deep into my soul. Thank you, dear mother-in-law for this time.
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