Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Santa Cruz by Samara Sant

Sun rising burning off the fog slowly but surely, like steam off my skin after a hot shower..
The sand shines amber like cognac in a glass, warming in your hand.
The dew clings to the grey driftwood abandoned on the shore after the storm.
The cries of the seagulls echo against the naked walls of the cliff face,
Sea otters bark their laughter as they lounge in their seaweed beds adrift in the current.
Boats rock gently on the white caps rolling in slowly, effortlessly, drawn to the shore by some unseen force.
Joggers beat footfalls on the wooden planks of the boardwalk, their stress flowing out of them in cadence.
A dog barks in excitement as it's master throws a stick into the ocean and he bounds into the ocean enthusiastically.
The air is filled with the invisible aromas of fresh baked sourdough bread that will be sold throughout the day to tourists enjoying the local cuisine.
The pier is becoming crowded with fishermen and sightseers enjoying their fresh brewed coffee and bagels.
The roar of the roller coaster as the carnie gives it a practice run before the kids line up for some fun.
The wind whips against my face and I close my eyes and smell a million scents..sunscreen on freshly darkened skin, and salt and sea air cools her skin and it leaves its mark untangible; unforgettable, the scent of Santa Cruz.

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