The beach lies perpetually in motion. A stretch wide and long as a striped asphalt runway. Sun glistens off the wet sand and with each step there is the crunch of broken shells underneath.
I glance down at the shadow of the horse, dog trailing neatly inside, and remove my hat letting the salty breeze work its magic. A swash of water races in leaving nothing but washboard and rill marks in its wake and the horse sidesteps tossing his head at each wave.
Camping with horses is not for the weak, especially when you are the only laborer. With a mallet in hand, plastic t-posts in the crook of my arm, I pound fence stakes into the ground, run a hot-wire behind the trailer and cart five gallon water buckets.
Safe now, Dex circles within and drops into a roll and the beach absorbs any last remaining drop of sweat.
I follow his lead and with hair twisted up lie in the sand breathing in the warmth. Not caring about the trail of dirt down my back. Digging my toes in, wiggling them as the water creeps around and through filling the void I created.
Relaxing the leash for a moment I let the dog play. She returns to me wet and ragged yet smiling.
A strip of clouds runs parallel to the horizon and at dusk the sky bleeds pink. I sit near a propane firepit, dog curled up in the camp chair, and raise my glass letting the wine trickle through - inhaling its scent in the glow of the fading sun. In the morning a sunrise appears hesitantly, like scattered islands on the horizon. I open the trailer door and stare.
I grow strong in nature. In her beauty - extracting every toxin effortlessly, leaving nothing but peace in its place.
She always knows what I need.