Little Bay

As I walk across the bridge
The grass on the ground tickles my feet.
I gaze out, and I see trees, water, and birds.
The trees stand proudly rooted in their land.
The water nourishes life below.
The birds whistle to their families.

I set down my towel, and I close my eyes for a moment.
I smell the warm, salty air,
The cedar planks of the dock.
I then open my eyes and run off the edge.

It’s only cold for a minute.
I swim out to the red boat.

My hair soaks in entire ecosystems.
I hang on the edge of the boat and look back.
I see luscious, curly, green moss, pillows of joy.
Algae wraps around my toes, making me laugh.
I let go and let the bay decide where I float.
The sun glows on my face.

I tread water and notice there is a figure on the dock.
I make out that it’s my mother.
I see her waving contently.
I quickly swim back through small waves.
When I reach her we sit on my towel with our feet dangling in the water.
We take in the bay in all its glory.