Perhaps,

It’s the glimmer on the water

A thousand quicksilver mirrors dancing over breeze-blown ripples

Reflected below in lightning streaks of gold

The tightness of salt-encrusted skin, baking on a gritty towel

Amidst the surprisingly pleasant scent of warm sunscreen

It’s the swift gasp when one bursts from the waves or

The sweet drag on muscle as we navigate tide and current

Confident in the body’s strength

‘

Or maybe

It’s dark thunderheads on the horizon and

wind-whipped particles of sand peppering our faces, twisting our hair

And,

with an indrawn breath, the rush of ozone and salt

That lets us know there’s an adventure on its way . . .

And, more distantly, the crash and boom as the ocean throws herself wildly at the land and we

Are home in bed, lulled to sleep in the knowledge we are safe.

‘

But it could be memories

Of a toddler’s dimpled bottom staggering towards the water

Arms high, fingers plucking the air in anticipation

Or simple treasures, like spiralled seashells in sandy palms

Weathered glass, smoothed and curling wood or

Footprints glanced over shoulders, and other footprints read

Temporary stories that wash away with the next high tide

‘

It could be all those things and

Perhaps its more

Maybe there isn’t a reason at all.