There is nothing like a day at the beach or a walk along the shore, with waves lapping and the sun shining, to bring me peace. This week has been a busy one at the funeral home, but I headed out to the beach after work today, and I’m glad I did. On Long Island, we are fortunate to have so many beautiful beaches; in fact, as the name suggests, it is an island surrounded by water—the ocean to the south and the sound to the north. Today, I went to Gilgo, and racked up over 12,000 Fitbit steps, stopping only to pick up the occasional perfectly formed shell that caught my eye.
On my walk, I came across surfers skillfully riding the waves, their laughter mingling with the roar of the ocean, while nearby, I spotted the “Sandman,” a talented artist deeply engrossed in creating another beautiful masterpiece in the sand. I couldn’t help but admire his dedication to a form of art that is so transitory — soon to be washed away by a big wave, never to be seen again, yet its fleeting beauty captured the hearts of those who paused to appreciate it. As I watched, children gathered around, eyes wide with wonder, while the salty breeze gently tousled their hair, adding to the enchanting atmosphere of the day at the beach.
As the sun was about to set, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape, I knew it was time to leave. The sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant oranges and deep purples, reminding me of the beauty that surrounded me. As much as I never wanted this cherished moment to end, I was leaving refreshed and renewed, filled with a sense of calm and clarity that I hadn’t felt all week. I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air invigorate my senses, knowing that I would be more able to handle what the next busy week ahead would bring; the challenges and demands seemed less daunting now after this peaceful interlude.
Alexandra Kathryn Mosca -- Exploring Life and Death: A Writer's Journey 
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