Dave’s Journal – Dune Ridge, Mid Tide

There are moments the ocean remembers for you.

I saw it in their faces—those two locals I’ve long held in quiet reverence. Salt-seasoned, sun-worn, and full of something unspoken. Not just style… soul. The kind that doesn’t need to be loud to echo.

They saw me before I said a word. Not just saw me—knew me. As if the tide had only just dropped me off from a long paddle, like I’d never really left.

There was no performance, no judgment. Just a nod, a grin, and one of them said,
“You’re lookin’ like someone who’s finally back in the right kind of elements.”

I guess I am.