I lay on the ground and listened to the surf rhythmically pound the beach, again and again and again, each time washing ashore more particles of shell and stone. Each one a tiny time traveler who’s epic voyage through the turbulent seas and transformation from powerful rock to grain of sand had now come to an end…here on Sanibel Island, home to billions of other washed up rejects spat out from the mighty ocean .
Around me life was stirring, the dart like Sand piper was awake and moving this way and that, feasting on the morning banquet freshly tossed up by the waves. The sand almost crawled at times seemingly alive with all the little crustaceans desperately trying to bury themselves deeper in the sand, desperately trying to avoid capture and the sharp end of the pipers probing beak. Hundreds of hardy little sea faring creatures battling hard to hang onto life. I lay in silence, in awe of this struggle for life and death. And still the surf pounded ashore ..again and again and again.