I've never seen anything quite like it really.
Today, in the island towns of Edgartown and Tisbury, children leave their classrooms.
They gather flowers from neighbors' gardens and their own, gather them in their arms.
And they march.
March to the Sea.
Loved ones, neighbors, friends.
People they don't know.
Remember courage, tenacity, service, sacrifice.
Their love, affection and longing.
Heartbreak and sorrow.
A tradition since the 1880s.
They march to the sea and cast freshly picked clusters and petals, lilacs and roses.
Into the sea.
A sea of soft blues and deep reds. Lush violets and vibrant oranges. Riotous pinks and yellows.
And for just a moment, they will dwell.
On a circle.
Life and death and rebirth.
From sorrow to a fresh new bud.
One fresh flower.
Of hope and renewal.
Remembering my dad, my uncle and my brother.
Have a safe one. :)