The wave

I walked to the beach today after my only class to give myself a break before a sat down for hours of grueling research. I gather leaves and tried to light a fire in one of the stone fireplaces just to set the mood of my study break. An amiable fire blazed for about a minute before the wind found its way under the logs. The waves proved to be a spectacle worth walking for so I made my way to the waterside. I stood in the sand and sunk in an odd way because of my shoes but ignored the uncanny feeling. I became mesmerized by the spray of the waves on the man-made rock jetty. I fantasized about buying a wetsuit so I could swim in the water all year like the man who swims laps in a black hood through November. He can't be younger than sixty and stands high on my list of respects for pure, untainted athleticism. I wonder the dent one of those suits would put in my grocery money? These are the times I wish bartering were acceptable as an equal means to money. But then, I guess I don't have much to barter with that isn't the dwindling figures in my bank account. I wanted so desperately to remove my socks and shoes and just feel the wet sand that appeared to be sucked dry of water with every recession of a wave. A gust of wind found my wandering mind and lead me back up the hill to the library where I belong.