The beach was strange that night. A rather weak cold front was pushing through, but didn’t know when or whether to sweep out to sea. So it was sunny and partly cloudy one minute, and then raining the next. Warm and cooler. Wet and dry. There was a misty shroud over the marsh, but with a bright edge of background sunlight waiting to advance from behind and disperse it. Diffused light. An afternoon of contrasts.
Very good John. I like the mystery you invoke. I wonder what lies beyond the gateway.
The line about entrance into another world made me think of the sensations you get a child when you imagine some thing so clearly that you get a yearning for it there (or could be there) even though it isn’t real. Like stepping into the pages of a good book, but you’re wide awake.