I am a native Californian living in Cardiff by the Sea.
An Old Irish Proverb says: "Living by the Sea stops old wounds from hurting. It revives the Spirit, it quickens the passions of mind
and body, and it lends tranquility to the Soul." Thank you "Beach" that my beginnings were along the California shoreline.
I was visualized in Ventura Beach. I was born at Oxnard Shores. Most of my life has been spent within a terry-towel toss of the sea.
I roasted hotdogs in your fire-rings, played volleyball on your sands, young love began on your shoreline, you lulled me to sleep at night.
My children were born by the beach in La Jolla. You are ever calming to me, Beach, and often cause a 'back to the womb' experience when I walk through the ever widening ripples of your wet sandy shores.
The crest of a wave in the breakwater and then the slow rippling sounds over gray beach pebbles ... they are all yours, Beach, times of beginning again.
You gave me the peace and solitude to write as I watched your vast expansive view of blue for sunsets to slither into at night, and small patches of whitewater to mesmerize me during the lazy leisure hours of my later life. Your pounding surf is my nightime lullaby. It centers my spirit with my Creator.
I invite you to learn more about me and how I apply myself to the commission of Life Story Writing.
An Old Irish Proverb says: "Living by the Sea stops old wounds from hurting. It revives the Spirit, it quickens the passions of mind
and body, and it lends tranquility to the Soul." Thank you "Beach" that my beginnings were along the California shoreline.I was visualized in Ventura Beach. I was born at Oxnard Shores. Most of my life has been spent within a terry-towel toss of the sea.
I roasted hotdogs in your fire-rings, played volleyball on your sands, young love began on your shoreline, you lulled me to sleep at night.
My children were born by the beach in La Jolla. You are ever calming to me, Beach, and often cause a 'back to the womb' experience when I walk through the ever widening ripples of your wet sandy shores.
The crest of a wave in the breakwater and then the slow rippling sounds over gray beach pebbles ... they are all yours, Beach, times of beginning again.
You gave me the peace and solitude to write as I watched your vast expansive view of blue for sunsets to slither into at night, and small patches of whitewater to mesmerize me during the lazy leisure hours of my later life. Your pounding surf is my nightime lullaby. It centers my spirit with my Creator.
I invite you to learn more about me and how I apply myself to the commission of Life Story Writing.
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