echoes in footprints

I haven’t been to the beach in a long time. I must have forgotten how nostalgic it felt to be annoyed at the sand entering the cracks of my skin and how good it felt to feel relieved once it’s gone. I finally remember the tightness of my new sunburn and tan, and how satisfying it felt to take an afternoon nap after the first shower after getting home.

I am not one for the heat, I quite hate it. Growing up in Rio, Brazil that was the hardest for me. Actually having fun in the weather that constantly made me nauseous. Now, I am reminded that that feeling is also nostalgic.

I went to the beach last week, at first it felt all American, humid and dirty. Typical Jersey shore. Something about being there with my family made it feel more poetic. I started counting my footsteps into the sea and looked back to where my prior location had been and noticed that my movements left traces. Then, I counted others’ traces and the size of their feet and followed them to their location. There has always been something so beautiful about leaving your mark in the world even if it would be soon washed away. But, at that moment you were present and we were breathing the same air.

Once I finally reached the ocean in my stretched hot skin, I felt as if I was a siren who gained its feet for the first time and all of the sudden my toes gained all movement, I felt alive and free to be swimming in this sea with other creatures that I have probably never even seen. I felt connected as if all species are share the same opportunity and I felt grateful to just be included.