With cool fingers the water rose up to meet his bare ankles. As he stepped further, it moved up his calves, undulating beneath his knees with the incoming tide.
The afternoon sun burned across the water in a fiery shimmer. He turned towards its warmth and shut his eyes.
He knew what was out past the island at the point of Land’s End: an endless canvas of blue possibility. He turned his head up to the sun and took a deep breath, exhaling it he melted into the water.
Everything fell from his shoulders: doubt’s constant nagging, his worry over his family, the upheaval happening at the office, the miles he’d traveled to get here. He felt light for the first time in months. The only thought that entered his brain was that if his feet weren’t held down by the water he might float away.
Happiness enveloped all of him in a warm embrace he had only known glimpses of in the past six months. His was a good life, but this was something else. He hadn’t had any idea he needed it. The car had entered the parking lot, and he’d been pulled toward the water line. Before he knew what was happening he was removing his shoes and socks and rolling up the pant legs of his jeans.
It felt so good. He felt connected. He belonged to this place. He heard nothing, but the gentle lapping of the waves upon the shore. He didn’t feel the eyes of the tourists staring in disbelief at this man up to his knees in the cold Atlantic in May.
He kept taking deep breaths. He wanted to soak it all in, make sure it reached the deepest parts of himself. He’d needed this feeling. He’d needed to come home.
