I am 24 years old standing on a nondescript beach on the coast of South Carolina. It’s nighttime. The ocean bounces moonlight off its surface, and I watch the ripples of light with a sottish grin. I look down. Sea foam covers my feet, tickling my heels with a yellowish-white glow as they sink deeper into the smooth, mirror-like sand. In fact, sea foam is everywhere. I look up and down the beach, and it extends in both directions as far as the eye can see. A particularly thick patch lies about five feet to my right. Lay down in it, I think. I do. It’s like snow. But a light, warm, salty snow. The foam rises around my ankles, my arms. The tide ripples past me, lapping the coast, slowing as it reaches terminal velocity before reluctantly flowing back into the sea. I close my eyes. The crash of waves carries me through the folds of time.
Let Secret Colors’s warm, immersive track “Now And Then And When” evoke memories for you, too, courtesy of Lillerne Tapes: