by Natasha RowlandI love the beach.
I love to swim. I love to fish. I love to collect shells. I love to jump over waves.
But most of all I love to feed the hungry waves.
Along the beach I walk leaving my footprints in the sand.
A wave slides in, a wave slides out and my footprints disappear.
Eaten by hungry waves.
I write my name in the sand.
A wave slides in, a wave slides out and my writing disappears.
Eaten by hungry waves.
I make a pattern with my shells and coral.
A wave slides in, a wave slides out and my pattern disappears.
Eaten by hungry waves.
I make a seaweed picture.
A wave slide in, a wave slides out and my picture disappears.
Eaten by hungry waves.
I build a sandcastle.
A wave slides in, a wave slides out and my sandcastle disappears.
Eaten by hungry waves.
I make a tunnel in the sand.
A wave slide in, a wave slides out and my sand tunnel disappears.
Eaten by hungry waves.
Today I’m going to make the hungry waves a feast.
Away from the hungry waves, I take my bucket and my spade and begin to dig.
I mould sand turtles.
I make sand cities.
I create mountains.
I dig tunnels.
And I decorate it all with shells, seaweed, coral, rocks and sticks.
Dinner is ready.
Today the hungry waves will have to work for their meal.
They’ll have to stretch and ooze up, up, up the beach.
Maybe tomorrow my sand city will still be standing.
I smile.
I doubt it.
I can hear the hungry waves behind me, crashing against the shore, gliding further in, closer and closer.
I offer up treats for the waves to eat, encouraging them closer to the feast, until it’s dark and I’m hungry.
Tucked in my bed, I listen to the hungry waves.
They sound happy.
I dream of the feast they must be enjoying.
Next morning, before the sun has woken properly, I race to the beach.
I smile.
The waves were hungry but they left some for me.
Natasha Rowland is a creative person whose writing, art and music keep her sane. Her children, the creatures living about her house and snippets of conversations are her inspiration sources. Recently she received a 2nd placing and highly commended from the USQ Creative Writing on Country competition.
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