With every step the sand shifts. With every unexpected motion forward there is some backward and down, just like walking in fresh fallen snow. Yet unlike the crystalline blanket of white bequeathed by the winter time, the fine grains under foot give me warmth from the suns rays. Like their sky-bound benefactor they are yellow, as if the sunshine itself is trapped inside these unmelting crystals. Despite the heat I find myself frozen in place once my eyes take in the ocean. The waves roll in white tipped, spreading themselves like fine lace over the beach after they crash in their soft way. There is nothing noisy about them, yet they have sound. Perhaps to me it is more like the music of my childhood, the rediscovery of the summers so long ago
