Sand scrunches underfoot as I make my way from the kitchen sink to the table while clutching a mug of coffee. In the background a load of laundry sloshes, while the dryer hums, two performing their dutiful duet. Beds, shed of linens, rest unencumbered. Signs taped to the front door to welcome the California clan now join old copies of the Boston Globe in the recycle bin. Summer’s leftovers.
Sloshing and humming end.
My list’s long and goals as unrealistic as usual. But the stillness beckons, reminding me to give thanks to God for the blessing of family with sandy feet, sticky fingers, screen doors left ajar and beach toys spread like playful hazards around the front steps. Praise for the season when swim suits and beach towels cling to rocks and railings like flags of summertime when life laughs outloud.
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