Memories of Dunas

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This article will eventually find its way into my book, "The Mending Journey"(A Diary Of Hurts).

Submitted: April 11, 2015

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Submitted: April 11, 2015

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Dunas,Portugal. 

 

In my own opinion, there's nothing more calming and soul cleansing than fishing,especially surf casting on this deserted beach,south of Dunas,just think about it for a minute, you're alone with your thoughts, the only noise is the seagulls and the gentle waves crashing on the sand,you walk barefoot carrying nothing but a light fishing rod and a bottle of water on a backpack, and you just cast your rod,not for the purpose of catching fish,you see,fishing is not about catching fish as much as it is  a therapeutic activity,and the best way out there to get to know and spend quality time with your own self,and you look around,feel grateful for this moment,close your eyes,absorbing all the sounds,smells  and feel thankful for everything in your life,and for the incredible gift of being born and raised in this beautiful beach town,surrounded by miles and miles of pristine dunes and pine forests.

Standing in ankle deep water, I cast my fishing rod as far as I can into the surf,and as I walk back to the sand,the salt spray coats my face with a fine mist,gently cooling my body and my soul,there's no  better feeling in the world, the sand gently scraping your toes, the coolness of the ocean breeze,the salty mist on your lips,the sting  in your eyes,the contentment of your soul.

For a brief moment I close my eyes,absorbing all this incredible mix of smells,tastes and sounds,(the Portuguese have a name for this,they call it "Maresia",apparently there's no translation into any other language,but what a beautiful word we invented).

There's something about the roar of the waves and the scent of the sea that brings instant inner peace to anybody lucky enough to hear and smell it.

Older people say that anybody that lived near the ocean will forever hear this soothing sound,even if they move far away from the seashore.And I know that for a fact,I hear that sound in the silence of my bedroom at night.

I used to sleep in my parents attic when I was a teenager,me and a bunch of friends usually slept there on Friday and Saturday nights ,there were three or four beds ,we called that attic "sleep over central",it was much cooler during the Summer heat,and the roar of the waves,specially during stormy nights,was louder there,everybody loved it.I will forever keep those memories,for they are part of my growing -up experiences, it's like the ocean cast a spell on me that makes me go back year after year to relive my childhood. 

After I place my rod on a spike in the sand,I look towards the horizon,the sun is setting, almost touching the water,the red sky reflects on the sea inspiring and filling  my soul with thoughts of you.

You may be five thousand kilometres away across this big pond,almost on a straight line from Dunas,when you look at a world map,but my heart tells me you are here.My eyes see you everywhere, and my soul makes me relive the memories of who we used to be,over and over again.

Do you remember when we were kids and we stayed on the beach until the sun went down? I do,but now I look around and you are nowhere to be seen,there's only an empty space on the beach,but not in my heart,in there you are still "my girl",and I can still feel your touch,your kisses. And the memories of you no one can take away from me,because they were real,and they are all I have now. 

Michael Hayssus, A Diary Of Hurts ( The Mending Journey )

 

 


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