Asking The Sea

This year's late winter weather in April is making me think about doing the same thing we did four years ago when we went "in search of redbuds and dogwood" and headed south.

Four years ago today, we were on the 'Sunset Capital of Alabama', Dauphin Island, at the entrance to Mobile Bay. It was a magical place to stay.

The Sea Question
 By Elizabeth Smither

The sea asks, "How is your life now?"
It does so obliquely, changing colour.
It is never the same on any two visits.

It is never the same in any particular
Only in generalities: Tide and such matters
Wave height and suction, pebbles that rattle.

It doesn't presume to wear a white coat
But it questions you like a psychologist
As you walk beside it on its long couch.

Just as Smithers states in her poem, another visit there would not be the same. My answers to "How is your life now?" would be different.
But, oh, to be walking on that sandy beach again, listening to the sea's susurrations and feeling the warmth of the southern sun, knowing, hoping, that when I returned home, Spring would finally be there to welcome me.