Dale Andree – Miami, FL

Stepping into the mud, it covers my foot and embraces it like a hug. Pulling my foot out takes effort and balance and creates the sound of escape. I dip my hands into the mud, reaching deeper each time. I lie on the seaweed that covers the rocks. As I yield to the curves and crevices made soft by the layers of vegetation, I surrender to the embrace of the form, allowing my body to move and roll and fall, caught by the next curve, unafraid of the rock, protected by the seaweed. I roll into the mud and swim in its richness, pushing and sliding in the lushness of its slippery soul
Quiet, I lie on my back and am held by the mud world that surrounds me. I look over my shoulder and see a snail slowly emerging from its shell. It’s within a breath’s length of me. I lie there. I watch it. I settle in. I belong.