These Are The Days

 These are the days now that we must savor

And we must enjoy as we can

These are the days that will last forever 

You got to hold them in your heart.

-"These Are The Days" 

Van Morrison

In my dreams, I awaken here every morning.  In my reality, I awaken here three to four times a week between Memorial Day and Labor Day.  The rest of the year, I awaken here perhaps three to four times a month. I long for the day when the life I live and the life of which I dream intersect.  For present purposes, however, they mimic the horizon line; the point at which the sky above and the ocean below appear to intersect but do not. 

I shall return from my morning run this morning, the final Sunday of summer, and for the final time this year I shall stare up at the sky while cleaning myself up in my outdoor shower.  Before we venture north up the Parkway later today, the Missus and I shall turn off the water that supplies it and shall bleed the lines to make certain that no water remains trapped in them as summer cedes the stage to autumn and, thereafter, autumn does the same in favor of winter.

Not everyone loves the ocean.  Not everyone loves the beach.  I do not understand it although I realize it and I accept it.  For me, though, there is no place I would rather be than where I am this morning - running along the waterline, accompanied by the sound of the waves and by the presence of the gulls and the pipers who have gathered to feast on the mussels, clams, and (if fortune is indeed smiling upon them) crabs that low tide has left vulnerable on the beach. Fortune has smiled upon me this morning, presenting me with this final present of the season - low tide at 3:40 am - enabling me to enjoy one final barefoot, sunrise run on the beach this summer. 

These are the days of the endless summer

These are the days, the time is now

There is no past, there is no future

   There's only here, there's only now...

-AK