FULL CIRCLE
by Carmel Rowley
Part Three
Artwork ‘Beach Runner’ Willa Frayser
Instinctively Cary drove towards the coast. She travelled with a sense of elation. She toured town after town inspecting antique shops and galleries. The people she met were completely different from what she was used too. They called a daily greeting when she emerged from her hotel every morning and paused to chat as she ordered coffee and toast for breakfast. She loved spending time standing on the high cliffs of the wild coastal country overlooking the sea. She pulled her jacket tightly across her chest and sucked the salty spray deep into her malnourished lungs. Without realising it she began to experience a comfortable inner peace.
Some mornings she was up early, driving as the dawn light stretched its filtered fingers across the ocean. Intuition kept her following the coastal roads. She spent hours watching the seagulls swoop then strut across the sands. The beauty of the high hilltops changing to raging surf beaches kept her absorbed by the palette of green and blue surges, edged by a lacework of white tipped waves.
Her favourite day began as she emerged from the mountains to reveal the wonder of ochre cliffs, carved by the sea, into massive caves and residual columns. The afternoon was
spent walking along a narrow strand to a wildlife sanctuary then stopping for a swim.
The voice had been strangely quiet. Its final words, “you don’t find anything new, until you’re brave enough to give up the old,” became a repeated echo.
The days stretched into weeks. Slowly the frown began to dissolve and in its place a hint of a smile. Cary drove along the tea-tree fringed bays and decided a fitting finish to the day was a brisk walk to clear the cobwebs after the hours of driving. Parking the car Cary set off down the hill towards the beach. She breathed the fresh air and flung her arms wide with pleasure. The mountainous waves and crashing surf resembled plunging white horses in desperate effort to reach the sand whole. Cary stood lost in the magic. The sun reflected a spray of diamonds as each wave splashed to it’s end on the shore.
A movement in the sand dunes caused her heart to quicken. Rapidly blinking Cary realised a real flesh and blood horse was walking towards her. He was a vision of white, almost an exact replica of her alabaster statue. The cold wind from the sea buffeted the landscape but Cary ignored everything except the animal before her. Obviously male, the horse turned and trotted with massive power and energy, hooves dwelling in the air with each stride. With his tail held high, he cavorted, reared and snorted. His sculptured face taunted her
with eyes of black onyx and ears so pointed Cary had to squint to see them twitch. Again the horse acknowledged her presence, tossing his head with a nod of approval before trotting away onto the beach then out of sight.
Cary sank to the ground and rested her head on shaking hands. She had ridden that horse in her dreams! Who owned such a horse? Why was he here on the beach? For a startled moment she thought he may have escaped his paddock. Lost in her concern about the horse Cary didn’t see the man until his shadow blocked out the last of the suns rays.
Astonished she looked up at a tall, wiry figure and gazed into his smiling face. He spoke, and although it had been some time since she had head the voice, she stared as if she had lost her senses. At once she recognised its warm, gentle persuasiveness. Cary’s closed her eyes, reeling at the idea. How can this be? “Are you real?” she asked. The horse returned to stand beside the man, who laughed loudly at her question. He stretched out his hand towards her.
“It’s about time you arrived. Saladin and I have been waiting a long time!” A dawning realization sparkled in Cary’s eyes and a huge smile lit her face. She had no idea about how or why and cared less. They smiled at one another and she reached up to take his hand.
The End
Copyright Carmel Rowley
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