Pocket full of stones


stonesThe dark horse entered like an unwelcome guest.
“What do you want? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“If you want me to leave you alone, you must leave these walls.”

Frozen, I paced back and forth feeling the shroud of doubt, fear and failure. Why do I bother? I asked to no one in particular. My inner voice pushed me further, I put my shoes on, grabbed my keys and left before the dark horse settled in for the duration. If I move fast enough, maybe I can outrun it.

Where was I going? I don’t know. My legs just knew they needed to start walking and to continue to walk until I no longer knew where I was. Just as long as wherever that ended up to be, it increased the distance from where I was now. Walk until you are tired and then just keep walking some more.

The warm sun soaked into my black jacket and as I drew up closer to the sea, I saw a glimmer of green light. Quickly, I turned towards the heavy metal stairs that led to the beach. I still had no idea what I was doing or where I was going but I knew I wanted to get closer to the child who was playing with the green light.

I swept my hands across the salty rocks and found a tiny piece of sea glass. Green and perfect, my soul soared with delight and a vision of a mosaic danced in my head. The dark horse was gone.

An elderly man approached me. His leathery skin was tanned and he had the calm nature of someone who knew every inch of that beach. “What are you searching for Signora?” For me, that was a very loaded question. How do I begin to explain to this kind, old, man that I’m in fact running away from a dark horse?

Instead, I smiled, held my hand out and showed him my fistful of green glass. “But Signora, that is just broken bottles and trash. I don’t like them, they don’t belong here.” “I’m an artist”, I replied, “and this glass has been softened by the sea and I will create a beautiful mosaic of a fish from these.”

He bent over, took a piece of shell in his hand and gently handed it to me. “You will need shells too.” We walked together searching for hidden treasures as he spoke about tomorrow’s solar eclipse and which beaches had the best shells and green glass. He walked me to the edge of the shore, along the point that jutted out beyond the pebbles. He pointed West. “You see the end of the shore? That is Bocadasse. Go there tomorrow, you will find more”…and with that, he waved a friendly goodbye.

Advertisements

About lmarmstrong66

I'm a blogger, painter, writer, singer. For the love of all things in nature and creativity.
This entry was posted in Art, Nature and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Pocket full of stones

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s