Still, In The Morning.

Petrichor: /’ pe, trīkôr/ Noun. A pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

I went for a beach run early in the morning. It had rained throughout the night and the pavement was still slick and the sand still compacted. Sitting on drift wood, I caught my breath. It was easy to close my eyes breathing in the petrichor filled air.

I started walking along the water as the foam met the edge of my shoe. The morning was especially peaceful and, for the first time in a while, I felt whole. I felt at home. Maybe that means something different to each person. Whether home is a place, a person, or a feeling, we all have one.

A friend of mine collects rocks and keeps them in mason jars scattered throughout her house. There were so many unique ones caked in the sand. Over years and years of the water crashing over them, their rough edges were now smooth. We’re like that too. I cleaned them off as the cold water kissed the beach, and I eventually collected so many that I had to walk back home rather than run. I didn’t want to pass up any good ones.

The beach is my favorite place to think and center myself. It’s where I’ve made decisions on which path to take and made decisions to pick myself up and keep going. The water has always fascinated me. Whether the waves swell violently as god-like thunder shakes the earth’s core, or the tide harmoniously keeps coming back to greet the land, it is all just as beautiful; just as captivating. And if Heaven does exist, I believe it would be found by the beach.

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