Friday, October 11, 2013

Wallpaper: Beach is not a place to work; to read, write or to think, to love & to enjoy.

I thought of you and how you love this beauty, And walking up the long Beach all alone I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder As you and I once heard their monotone. Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me The cold and sparkling silver of the sea -- We two will pass through death and ages lengthen Before you hear that sound again with me.
 Sara Teasdale
When I walk down the beach and smell the salt water, hear the waves crashing against the shoreline, and feel the granular sand under my feet, I can't help but realize why I'm here on this green earth.
Wendy Joubert

No comments:

Post a Comment