A step away from the Edge

Clouds and mists for the morning walk. I went the solitary route towards Marconi, as the mists hung onto the dunes so seductively. The mung has washed in and feeds the hungry Plovers, running so frantically to catch their fill. Then something called me from the edge of the shore. I was drawn inward, towards the dunes. The whispers, I felt them calling. On approach I heard the soft reflections of the waves and roll of the rocks being cast about, up the height of those dunes, but there was another voice. I stopped. Completely stopped, before I heard them. Lives past, ghosts or what was between the layers of sand and time. Knowing they don't have long before they are pulled down into the sea. There is another song being sung there, if you listen. Quiet, but powerful and luring. A higher octave that joined the softly falling sands for a brief moment of awareness. The swaying of the grass that clings so desperately onto those dunes seemed determined to give more. I felt at peace there is morning, as it seemingly was speaking only to me. How many people enjoy this stretch without taking that step back away from the edge? The shore has it's own allure, but that other side beckons to be heard.