Hundreds, maybe thousands of roses, lilies and birds of paradise strewn up the beach to the base of the cliff. A path for a bride and groom at the beginning of something? Or blooms tossed after the spreading of someone's ashes, a last gift to the dead and the sea? Were they a signal to me of celebration or remembrance? Is the solemnity, evoked in me without explanation or satisfaction, appropriate as I watch the tide wash them away?
