Once upon a time, I wrote this. Now, I've cleaned it up a bit since that rough draft, and get this - actually submitted it to a magazine. Yikes. That's my first little tiptoe into the publishing world, so we'll see how it goes. I won't hear from them for a few months, though, so I'm not looking for results any time soon.

Whatcha think?

I dropped my bag onto the sand, and gazed out at the sinking sun. My chair sat within reach of the lapping waves, and with a sigh of relief, I settled in comfortably. My toes wriggled down in the soggy sand of their own volition, as waves flirted softly with my feet. My hands stretched over stomach, now rounded with pregnancy.

Gulls cried high above, soaring in graceful arcs. Sun-kissed children combed the shore for one last shell, as parents began to gather their now salty belongings. Crabs scuttled playfully in the fading light, and a school of tiny fish hid in the faint shadow of my chair. I watched lazily as forgotten sandcastles were slowly swept away by the relentless tide. As the waters claimed each crumbling turret, my troubles followed. My worries and fears drifted far into the sea, far from me.

Clouds abandoned their fluffy whiteness, and gleefully donned pinks and oranges and yellows. The parade of colors stretched over the ocean, filling the breadth of the sky. Sunset waited, fashionably late, until we all held our breath for her entrance.

As I sat beneath the canopy of day’s end, I took a picture in my mind. I memorized each detail, each taste and texture and smell. It's all still there, though the memory is but a shadow of the brilliance.

I left the beach knowing I'd never be able to recreate the moment, not entirely. Life was around me, and inside me, for the very first time. In that instant, I was joined with the elements and creatures in their endless cycles. It changed me. The peace and beauty imprinted on my soul. I carry that with me always, a souvenir, hidden deep within.

And now, when I look at my child, with her bright smile and golden curls, I know that I am not the only one who carries the mark of our perfect day. For she shines like the sun, and she smells like the breeze. She soars like a bird, and she has colors in her soul that rival the setting sun.

That day, so perfect and beautiful, passed swiftly into a memory. But my daughter? Her light stretches into a lifetime.