My last day at the sea was so magical . . . I had planned to stay at the beach all day, but business matters intervened, and I thought that was just fine for it was such a foggy day that the sun might never break through the deep marine layer. When I finally made it back to beach in the late afternoon, the sun decided to show its face and cast one silver spot upon the sea, it seemed just for me, and a hole in the clouds appeared over my head. Blue sky. There I was sitting on the sand with that portal of blue above me and a sun before me that looked more like a moon shining through the fog while it cast a single silver ray upon the gray waters. Peace on earth.
But the sweetest memory of all had to be my little friend, the dark seagull in this picture. It flew down a few feet from me, stood in the sand and just stared a hole through me. I started talking to it, as I often do with creatures that have decided to share such close space with me, even though I am a human. I asked the gull if it was OK if I took its picture. I took quite a few, because this seagull chose to stay with me until I left with the setting sun, keeping me company, and accomplishing another mission too. Apparently the dark gull thought it was important to create a circle of serenity around me by keeping the other gulls at a distance. Each time one landed nearby, the dark gull squawked a warning while walking over to it until it flew away. The dark gull continued to circle ‘round me and move the other gulls away until there were just the two of us. The gull seemed content to stand there and guard me while I made my last reflections and meditations in the presence of that silver patch of water before me while the blue heavens shown down upon me . . . just me and the gull breathing in the fresh air that arrived with each peaceful wave.
When I finally got up to leave, the dark gull did not move, but kept up its watch while I gathered my things. I said goodbye to the gull and left it with a smile as I turned to walk back across the sand. When I looked over my shoulder, the gull had finally gone . . . with its mission accomplished it was time for it to move along too.
Coincidentally, my camera stopped working when I tried to take a picture of the setting sun. The last pictures on my camera were to remain those of the dark gull . . . but my camera works just fine this morning. Apparently this gull wanted me to hold it in my memories, for it knew it had made its way into my heart . . . but . . . how that dark gull could ever possibly arrange for it to be the last picture in that new folder on my laptop I will never know . . . or do I? Mission accomplished again, my dark seagull friend.