This morning the ocean danced.
An hour before sunrise, waves rushed and leapt and sprayed, leaving a molten crimson cast on the rocky shore. This is the the same spot where my children planted a beach bouquet .
The sun ignited a more tentative, delicate ballet. It seemed to whisper from both wings, limbs of light clasping each other at the horizon as dawn’s bright white clouds began to swirl and glide overhead.
As birds began singing in earnest, one sturdy late winter branch bowed to its more petite neighbor, whose arms were outstretched, as if extending an invitation to tango.
Five years ago today my children and I brought their father home to die.
But this morning the ocean danced.
Love in the Spaces 