I lay alone on the sandy beach in Cornwall.
It was a special place, full of memories.
My beach towel felt soft and comforting,
Protecting me from the gritty sand touching my skin.
But it was too hot to sunbathe,
The smooth shiny water seemed welcoming.
I got up from my towel and walked towards the sea.
I noticed the waves looked different from minutes before.
Not the usual powerful waves that sometimes,
Made entry into the sea difficult.
Saltwater statements alternating at angles.
Low and sinister moving head-on against the shore,
As if they wanted to drive their way inland.
I didn’t notice the flatter patches of water becalmed,
But containing great energy.
As I swam I felt a strong power taking me further out to sea.
I wasn’t in control anymore.
Another force was in charge.
Frightening and powerful.
I was too far out to sea,
To dig my toes into the sand beneath.
Thick mud had joined me on my journey.
Could I fight against the currents?
Then I remembered what Frank had once told me.
Don’t try to swim against the current,
Even strong young swimmers can’t do that.
Swim parallel to the beach until you feel,
The force of the rip tide has gone.
It seemed as if Frank’s voice was calling out to me,
Don’t fight the rip tide.
Then my feet touched the hard surface beneath.
I walked out of the sea exhausted,
But free to enjoy the remainder of that beautiful day