Bates Beach


With the urgency of the surfers running down the steps racing out to huge, loud, tubular waves.  
As the chill of the Pacific cuts against my shins.  

I turn my back to the sun and excitement and feel a deep familiarity rise up through the shadow cast before me.  

The hang of the arms and hands.  
The tilt of the head.  Or the same haircut?  
Weight on one leg.  
A pointed toe digging in wet sand, especially in the movement….
I notice….
Me meeting me.





In the shadow today on Bates- 

In a photo taken 46(?) years ago- 

A future 46(?) years from now.



Me meeting me.



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