Light is the beach, everything about it especially the salty water. We are made of salt water. Extract that from us and we’re just mummies. It’s a life force for me. I see the light on the top of the water. Light is music and writing, a connection with others and a path to better understanding of myself. It’s a book on a shelf I really like. It’s like a light switch when I read my own words. I usually like what I see but sometimes don’t. That’s when I revise. Light is a vacation. We may spend the night somewhere, drive home, or fly to Hawaii. Regardless, I feel so much light and life at the beach it’s as if anything is possible. Here I am now, tranquilized by ethereal memories of sunsets and sea breezes, all but blinded, and that most happily, by the light.