On the beach tonight, I am watching them.
All four of them in their own worlds — coming together to show a rock, ask a question.
Then parting ways again, each beckoned back into the stillness
and constant motion of the lake.
Everything gets washed away here.
Petoskey stones scattered on the shoreline last summer —
are now under water.
The coral pattern makes them easier to spot when wet.
Who is it that speaks so eloquently about thresholds?
A threshold is a place where we stop the conversation
and become something new.
Maybe this is why we are so drawn to the beach?
When we need to step over a threshold:
that edge —
that becoming something new — we come to the big lake.
Here we can look out into the future,
and feel ourselves willing to be changed by it.
Willing to enter into the unknown blue.