Sorrow by the shore

This morning I looked out the window and saw blue sky and quiet water on the canal and thought; What a perfect morning for the beach. I wrapped up some food for my son and gathered our towels and swim gear. He understood we were going somewhere and climbed into his stroller long before I was ready to go. By 8.15 we were out the door and walked down to the beach.

The water was clear, the beach was empty, the sand was freshly plowed and the sun was gently warming as the early morning sun does. What a beautiful day. Mikkel could't wait to run into the water and I had to toss my dress off and catch up with him before even getting our towels out.

I noticed some clothes that had been washed ashore just where we entered the water. A black tank top and a black shirt. Later I saw a sock. "Where does it come from," I thought. Maybe someone lost them from a boat. Or maybe someone got drunk, had a bath, and forgot where he put his clothes. Or maybe someone ... Nah, why think about sad options when we're having such a beautiful time.

After a long bath we went back to our spot and sat down. I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures of Mikkel in the sand, like I always do when we're there. Some people passed us but I didn't pay attention to them, I was busy with my phone and watching my son digging in the sand.

A few minutes later I noticed that the people were gone again, they didn't come for a swim.  But close by the wet black clothes, I noticed something that wasn't there before. A fresh, red rose was planted erect in the sand.