By Tom Brown
I recall the joy of barefoot on wet sparkling rippled sand, a river-mouth and dunes and the green of sand shrubs. On a beautiful sunshine day with the sun from behind you can see a thin band right around on the edge of the sea, the wonder of a rainbow ribbon horizon. A miracle of hope and beauty. Fresh breeze sea and salt and sand and surf foam blowing in the wind, in salt-water thrill wild and free and free and wild white stallions race the tide on a deep blue ocean under a clear blue sky.
The majestic Indian Ocean like a royal mighty lioness lazily rolling pawing playing with her cubs. In her dignified ebb and sway of a slow waltz, if you dare she will easily snatch you carelessly with no warning. And even so her moods can swing to thunder her clouds roll in sudden deadly dark rage of woman.
Dawn on the waves
The sky before dawn is a magical vision of all colours pastel from deep to soft cloud and sky dark and faint in hues and shades of crimson to deep violet lighter purple in orange yellow dark blue and delicate green with the last stars glinting and breakers' foam and froth ghostly white. All footprints washed clean the beach is desolate and deserted of man. Alone and lost in deep longing even your self is forgotten, transcended.
Then over the sea and coast in expectation in anticipation all of nature together hush even the near breakers calm and quiets holding breath in humble dumbfound awe. All creation in all rapture focused. The sea shows in circling mirrors of light the soon breaking sun. And the beach around, the rocks and lush green, the land around forms a great crescent, the skyline's gentle arc and the slowly brightening cloud. Shiny wet yellow glitters sand the hills and foam spray rocks all brown and black and bright glisten and shadows and green all meet together.
All of nature waits all of creation shows the lone brightening light slowly to rise from the sea. Mirroring the eastern sky on the water and waves all together shining all in circles on the ever brightening centre as the lonely haunted moon sets behind. Silver flashing sea-bream jump and dive and splash in freedom of delight in silver-shining ripples and calm in love of joy and joy of life.
Then seizes the blinding sun the white falcon that lonely feathered cloud, in the claws of a hawk seize daybreak and sunrise, in love of light and the miracle of a new day, of new life of new hope. The golden rays of light of dawn grandly on the waters displayed is the magnificent morning, the glorious coming of the sun on a fiery chariot on the waves with all of heaven's power and all of heaven's splendour.
For my cousin Gary Brown
“Mine eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of the Lord.”