Sand

I thank you Father, for sand. I thank you for the smooth, fine, hissing sand, and the coarse sand that crunches beneath my feet. I thank you for the hot sand that makes me walk fast, and the cool sand that allays the discomfort caused by the hot sand. I love that either hot or cold, it feels great to bury my feet beneath the surface and wriggle my toes. Thank you for that. Thank you for the way I can nestle into the beach and for the way, like a big spongey bed, it takes my shape. 

I delight in sandy beaches. Sitting on the ground is never more pleasant then when on a sandy beach.