The cycle starts anew
 With a promise on the breeze The incoming tide

My father would always tell me to fish the incoming tide. It was like the beginning of the cycle all over again, like life returning and we would watch the sea to see the edges of the water change and to know that charcoaled fish, cooked in the sand would be on the air soon.

There was a sweet smell of love and full bellies that would always accompany the promise of an incoming tide.