illucidation

I’m floating in the warm waves at sunset, scanning the ocean floor for bright tropical fish and the waving antennae of spiny lobsters peeking from under their rocky hiding places.  I imagine I’m a mermaid, my body undulating through the salty sea,  floating grass tickling my scales.  I lift my head periodically, the water rolling gently over my body as I keep an eye on my beach bag, although my concern is truly unnecessary.  I am nearly alone.  Only a few other people dot the beach, and after  half an  hour or so, I am the only one left.  I emerge from the surf, and leave my snorkel, then head back in to float in the warm water.  I stand, grab a handful of sargassum and shake it over my palm, then smile in wonder at the tiny creatures wiggling against my skin.  Baby shrimps and a little crab scramble furiously over my hand, searching for their sea weed home.   I feel gentle  ridges in the sandy ocean bottom under my feet, their wavy shape carved by the moon’s gravitational dance.  Feeling completely at peace, I leave the sea.  The balmy air chills my wet skin.