Footprints in the Sand

March 1, 2008
I remember when I would walk along the beach with my dad.
His hand was warm in mine and I could feel the wet waves of the ocean absorb within his body's heat.
Together we would stroll along the sand and stare into the distance.
When it was quiet my ears found the sound of the waves kissing the land.
I would run to where the ocean meets the shore just in time to jump over the curving arches of the sea.
Sand squeezed between my toes as I would run back to my father who waited there patiently watching his daughter experience and take part in the play of nature.
He would hug me and I would wrap my small fingers around his belly.
We stood there capturing and treasuring the moment while the wind tangled my hair and whistled across his face.
His big hand enveloped mine and together we would continue to walk.
Our eyes stared into the distant, blue blanket of the earth while our feet moved forward along the sand leaving two big and two small footprints behind us.

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