this morning there is the beach, there is salt mixed with salt as it swirls in my mouth. i am knee deep in the churn of the water and the long stretched out sky, and it is almost flying as i top the crest of the hill, pass over the high point, to all of the world that is before me. the sand is cold from the night and the water is too and my toes find a home there, nestled, deep and comfortable. the man waves to me, running, as he passes and then i have the whole of the shore, from city beach to scarborough, to myself. all of it is mine, and i remember why i love this place, and how i love it. in the moment when the water fills your ears and the cliff of fear as the wave crashes over you. in the upward pull of the surf, how it catches in the small of your back. in the tiny moment of light as you open your eyes before the water ends, and how you can see it, refracted, in the sunlight. here i was born, and there i died. it was just a moment to you; you took no notice.