Once, basking on the beach at Bolivar Peninsula, Mama said, “There’s something special about the August sun.” I sorta knew what she meant. “It doesn’t burn you,” she said.
Now, years later and on a different beach, the August sun has taken on a deeper meaning. For my husband and me, this time at the beach has given us just that. Time. Unscheduled. Plentiful.
We’ve read almost as many books as we’ve watched sunsets. TV has been out of our picture. Except for an occasional buzz from the weather radio, the ocean’s our easy listening.
August is gone and already, the September sun sets further out over the ocean, signaling change.
We’ve watched storms come in, the moon grow, comets fall and the ocean turn an orange color that made me think of shucking corn.
Like our walks, our minds have meandered.
Here, it’s all about ocean life, present time . . . the August sun.
August is gone and already, the September sun sets further out over the ocean, signaling change and our return to Houston.
Fall will bring a different light. January will make us move inside. We’ll talk calendars, projects to complete, issues at hand and the like — but the August sun will still be on the horizon. Bringing special light. The kind that doesn’t burn you.