Sunday in January

January.
The month where confetti falls flat.
The sequins have gone dull.
Glimmering lights
Lost again in the shadows.
Decorations full of memories
Slumber back from whence they came.
So quiet…
It echoes…
Alone, save for promises soon to be broken.
Something to distract the days when only the year feels new.
8 a.m.
Sunday.
Pillows usually win the internal tug of war
On gloomy January mornings.
The ones where the cold clings to the moisture in the air like a damp cloak.
I love the grey…
Solitary footsteps mark the sand.
A lone seagull spirits by.
Two adventurers in the morning light.
But…
Today, we awoke to the sun.
More glorious than a hot July noon.
Surfside,
I am greeted by a joyous parade.
Eager people, all along the shore.
That feeling of the final bell,
Of a school year when we could be together.
That collective energy as the chimes ring out…
Summer is here!
If just for a day…
Little grains of sand in sandwiches.
Chips crisp with vinegar.
Ice cream, melting,
Salty from the water dripping down my nose.
Dozens line the cresting waves,
Alone together as one.
Little feet, big feet,
Paws tracking alongside,
Sign a guestbook with invisible ink
That will fade with the rising tide.
Shrieks of surprised, elated glee as the January water splashes toes.
A flirtatious dance with nature,
Also emerging from a long winter’s sleep.
Bodies yearning to stretch and move,
Awaken upon the shore.
Mermaids beckon.
Seagulls soar.
The dolphins dive smoothly along.
It’s like we’ve been in hibernation.
For a year…
Maybe more…
And while the end may be afar
We share this moment.
In the sun.
Months alone, dark inside,
Suddenly seeing the light.
Just a Sunday in January.
A little respite.
A benevolent reward.
Much needed inspiration,
To hold on a while more.