Beach Magic

A very short picture story filled with medicine

by

Yvonne Mokihana Calizar

I was in need of a vacation yesterday. Some very very VERY big adult stuff had passed through the dreams, and out into the Precession. The New Moon in gogogo Aries was defining my mood, offering up, 'Boring' as a description. I felt the irritation, the tightened skin ness the itching feet ness. I shouted to him "I need a vacation." He tried to soothe her, "Your life is a vacation!" 

Explanation wouldn't help, I knew that. When he went out to play in the dirt, I went back to sleep, woke at near noon, and started my day over. I took myself to the water's edge, and later -- while truly 'on vacation' -- me and the little one had a time like this ...

The picture tucks into the cold steel beam, silent as the night, trying to be quiet. But, of course, some nights are meant for magical journeys, vacation time with all the right pay a yearning to be where the child can really play.

 A bit of sand came home with her, evidence. Out from the clam shells they sprinkled onto the stilled beach. "Remember your roots!" the glittery grains could not contain their jolliness.

 The girl in the photograph had come to play and that was the pleasure of Beach-ness maximized. 

The Others crept closer, wondering how they could join in the silliness. Story messages imagined the path, considered how to become part of both sides of the world. How to slip through the slot between definitions, between time and solidness?

"Ah, clever Beach Stones! Your secret is safe with us. We will return again and again to play at all ages, all stages." Until next time.