SOLC 10: In Which I Remember The Bay

The sand is starting to cool as night approaches. The golden sun is slowly sinking into the edge of the water, little specks of light twinkling across the bay. I step lightly, careful not to press my foot anywhere that might be hiding a sharp shell or rock. I scan the damp sand for any signs of crabs or fish, trying to spot them before they spot me. There is no shortage of snails, and the banks are littered with their tiny shells. People walk in small groups, quiet and slow. They are small figures painted carefully over the landscape. I wish that I could take a picture of this moment, but nothing I could do would ever be good enough. There is no way to really capture the way a place feels or sounds or looks all at once. So the only thing I really have to keep this with me is my memory.