The coast

I step in the foam and my feet burn with the cold. As the rough waters laps against them, they turn bright red until they tingle and fizzle out numb with cold. I cannot feel them anymore. The burning is now in my legs where I can still remember what temperature and cold means. My feet have now have forgotten cold, they are simply dead weight. Wave and breakers close in. at the edge to the sea the waves are fast and large. Here the waves come rapidly and the sand keeps swirling in the foam making the water murky. The waves tug around my feet pulling the sand out from under me, tipping my balance. The shells are visible only for an instant before the waves drag them away. I learned fast to keep an eye on the sea as it comes towards you. The size of the swells is always changing. Without watchfulness, the wave would easily go far above my waist. When only moments before the water merely lapped around my feet. Here at the edge of the sea, it is risky and the hunt for shells is often unfruitful. I know where to look for shells away from the foam sand the breakers .there is always a place that isn't part of the sea and isn't quite part of the river it is full of rocks and shells caught and trapped between tides. Here the waters are clearer as the water meets the sea it does not rise and fall and change rapidly as the waves on the shore do.