The Creative Wanderer
A sharp chill runs up his spine, the early mornings mist covers his tent in a collection of droplets. Barefooted, he steps upon the cold beach sand. The peaceful morning breaks by the sounds of seagulls as they soar through the sky. He reaches for his jacket, his eyes wander to the view that stands beyond his tent. The coastline of Oregon, he smiles, for just a moment, he forgets who he is. He does not only forget his name, but looses all sense of self. His spirit lifted, he walks towards the cold pacific water, waves crash against the rocks, he kneels and presses his palms into the sand. Serenity has found him.