sea breezes
April 19, 2003 2:09 a.m.
The waves pelted the stone wall by the bridge, the salty water washing across the narrow road, covering the black macadem with coarse sand. Tiny bits of airborne foam flecked the window, followed by the salty spray of each surge breaking against the tiny beach. We sat there, transfixed by the power of the tide, trying to resist the temptation to roll down the windows and feel the icy salt water hit our faces.Impatient, the car behind us slows down as we take our time, enjoying the change in weather. Only Tuesday, I walked along The Crest's grassy lawns barefoot and content, the new growth of spring caressing my calloused heels. Now, Friday night, we sit here with only a thin sheet of glass between ourselves and the cold, uncaring Atlantic.
We gain speed again, approaching the bridge, and smile at the toll-man. Back at the house, I creep out onto the upper deck after midnight and wrap my blanket tightly around me, feeling the cold salt air caress my face. The Atlantic beckons me, but I retreat inside to a warm bed, knowing that the tides will go one without my care tonight.
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