Nostalgia can waft on the wind like a dandelion puff and disappear just as quickly. In my backyard, the salty tang of the ocean drifts into my nostrils, invading my head, and I’m back on Orange Beach in the 80s. Soft, white sand cocooning my footsteps, a tropical breeze pinwheeling my hair, sea gulls as graceful as any ballerina diving a pirouette into the water. My two long-gone dogs are running ahead with ears flapping and big sloppy grins on their little faces. Stretched out before us is a long stretch of beach dotted with a few evening walkers and occasional beach homes built of wood and happiness, in the days before big money and high-rise condos. The sun is slipping into a sunset of pinks and oranges there and here, and now it’s all fading away.
Charlotte Hamrick is a creative writer whose work has been widely published in literary journals and anthologies. Links can be found in her Linktr.ee. She lives in New Orleans where she reads, writes, and tries to control her appetite for dark chocolate.
Photo by Ummano Dias on Unsplash
