Tuesday, July 17, 2012

61/365 sand

The sand in the hourglass loomed over Dorothy, rushing to her demise.
I think Hitchcock had the motif of an hourglass in his tv show.
Colored sand in a glass container, created to make intricate scenes of ocean, blue sky, and people on the beach.
The beach with its wide span of sand, from the coolest, by the water, to the burning hot just before the boardwalk.  People would set up under the boardwalk, too, but the sand seemed damp, and even musty under there.
I always moved to the sand just above where high tide would come in.  A short sprint to the water, where you could squish you toes in the sand.  Such a delightful feeling.
Staying close to the water and building sandcastles with a shovel and pail, soon to be washed away by the incoming tide.
The burning hot sand on the walk to the concession stand, where you cursed yourself for not wearing your sneakers.
Lastly, rinsing the sand off your feet under the faucets on the boardwalk.

my niece, Melissa, on the beach

*A free-write is a type of automatic writing, where you just go with your stream of consciousness non-stop. There's no thought to spelling or grammar, and no editing of words. Supposedly this opens the mind up to greater creativity. They can be 5, 10 or 20 minutes long. Suggestions for freewrites are always welcome. Visit Evie, with whom I freewrite, at the space between colors.

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