I sit amidst the golden grains of sand, the shells cast off by the ocean, and the saliferous strain of air that hums through my lungs. I lean on my palms and stretch my feet to bask in the cascade of sunlight generously set forth from the farthest of the horizons. The warmth envelopes me. She holds me captive, but I don’t stir.
The sun begins to descend, retreating behind its curtains. The waves hover, but the ocean rises in a subtle chill, tickling the tips of my toes as it masks the shore. I hear the trees whisper to the wind, awaiting another deity in the sky. Quite precociously, She is asleep. The night has risen.
But She will return. She always will. In the morning, just like always. She will be there to wipe away the tears of dusk, to warm Her ocean and to, once again, bring back the glow to the shore. I always need Her. There will always be an evening after Her luster, and I would want to make certain that She won’t abandon me breathless in the dark.
I won’t lose my Summer.
to the elixir of true grit 