Beach Sounds

by Carolyn Carceo

I sit on dry gray rocks, and I listen. Gulls, running on the sand or circling in the air, talk in screams, sounding like they're insulting each other. What is it they say? The waves, white-capped, fast, roar as they crash on the rocks near me. Some splash up, trying to get me wet. Noisy, chatty, chaotic, untranslatable -- the sounds of the ocean.

6S

Carolyn Carceo lives on Massachusetts' North Shore and works in Boston. She's the oldest of four, and a Mom to two catkids.