Sunday morning, while Megan and Karen were off getting breakfast with a friend, I walked to the beach by myself. I just really needed to hear the waves crashing against the shoreline, feel the wind, let the early morning sun beat down on my back. I craved rejuvenation.
It was fairly early and--just as I'd hoped--I had the beach all to myself.
Well, mostly to myself. There were a handful of seagulls down the beach from me, but they had no interest in me.
Except one. She kept creeping nearer and nearer to where I was plopped down in the sand watching the tide sweep in. I began to notice that every time I looked to my right, this one seagull was closer, all stealthy ninja gull. I started imagining writing a children's story called "A Seagull Bit My Toe! or What I Did on My Summer Vacation."
She got about six or seven feet away from me and decided that was close enough. So in companionable silence we watched the waves creep closer until I thought I should start walking back in time to shower before church. I got up and she startled into the air.
I thought that was the end of that. And then as I walked back to the rock where I'd left my jacket, shoes, and camera, I realized she was following me again. She might have followed me home were it not for the truck full of beach visitors that showed up right then. Instead, she flew off, back to her flock.
And I was left with nothing but my companion's tracks in the sand.
I think that you should really go with the title "A Seagull Bit My Toe!"
ReplyDeleteAmy M.