Beach a Boneyard

As I gaze upon the splendor of the beach: yellow, soft and resplendent and compliant. I realize that it is a debris field of bones. Of shattered shells devoid of sound-of-sea-echoes. Of bit of crabs, seaweeds and bones of fishes ground to dust, all gathered into an amorphous tell-tale pile. It's congealed when wet, soft and flowing when dry. This boneyard of bone, shell grit and bony bits, is caressed by the wind, currents and waves into dunes, banks, bars and drifts that are constantly played and reworked. It is this boneyard beach which provides the perfect barrier and margin along the shore absorbing the thrust of storms, winds and waves protecting it from erosion. Like the bones in a cemetery, or a calavera the debris field on a beach protects and sustains the living form with the heritage remains of the past, remembered and put to good use.