The tide
A trail of footprints behind you. Bare feet, left and right, just as you would expect them to be in the moist sand of a winters beach. Yet you leave none beneath you, levitating in air as if it was water. Big creatures of seaweed flocks the water’s edge; tall, round, grazing. Their shapes defined continuously by ebb and flow. Heather grows, managed by the same creatures, yet these seem…