Dancing on the water

Thick purple clouds hang low over the ocean and in the distance rain is falling on the Cargo Ships loaded with boxes of dreams. The sea is flat and calm, the tide is low and the beach is broad and clean. A Yacht is cruising at top speed to Hilton Head attempting to outrun the rain. Couples stroll the beach, holding hands searching for shells.

My morning run takes me through the middle of this, far from the rain I can feel the wet salt air mix with the sweat pouring out of me. A cool breeze blows from the south and seagulls are diving for fish making small splashes before flapping furiously skyward with their breakfasts. A handful of cannonball jellyfish lay dead at the high water mark.

Ahead of me, a little boy perhaps three or four, happily dances in the surf, his laughter the only music, his smile is pure joy. There is no one near him so it's just him and the ocean. He can't stop dancing on the water.

Scanning the beach I see a man briskly walking towards him, his long beard blowing to his left. We lock eyes and we exchange smiles.

Looking back at the little boy, I see that he is now looking at me, hands up in the air, bright blue eyes filled with happiness, tiny white teeth shine brighter than the sun. His joy is contagious and I laugh out loud, passing him by.

It's a day made for joy and contentment.

I make a vow to carry that little boy with me throughout this day.

I'll never see him again but what a gift he is to me on this day weighted down with thick purple clouds spitting rain on boats carrying dreams.