The Water's Edge

There isn't much to dislike at the beach. Any beach. In Toronto, we call them "The Beaches" because there's more than one along the vast north shore of Lake Ontario and people do have their favourites.
I have my favourite thing about each of them. At Hammersmith Beach, it's the name I like. At Balmy Beach, I like just about everything. The texture of the sand on my bare feet, the volleyball courts, the deep shade the trees provide for the boardwalk just after midday.
I sat in that shade yesterday, feeling conflicted while I gently brushed the sand from my feet after that warm walk. I performed my ritual. I said hello to the lake as I stood in the beach break. I visited my hands upon the warmest part of the water and called out names of family, names of friends. All people who would have wished to have been with me. Well, people I wished were so.
I sat back in the shade with my bicycle at rest and the sand falling from my feet. And I thought about what the beach meant to me in that moment. I thought about the water's edge. The place that calls me, captures me like a dear friend in a dream.
I thought about the air and water and the place where they come together. I thought about sun and sky and the light and dark that defines the gentle ripples. I thought about the land and the people and the children and the games and the rest. And the laughter, quiet conversation and hands held together. And I thought about the fire that lights our minds.
It's the edge of the water where all of us come together. On a sunny day like this. And on every other day, with the right kind of love in our hearts.

-Meghan