Waiting for the Tide

Yale School of the Environment
Class of 2026
Master of Environmental Management

Stumbling upon a nude beach
I feel as naked as the hermit crab
without its home
ready for a new shell bounded by protective weight 
but not found
without the assurance
an errant wave could take me anywhere
I may just have to put faith 
in fluid uncertainty

but here I am 
in my prime - or so they say
pushing out towards the deeper ocean
and riding waves where they surge

to be a barnacle, muscle, or limpet
would tranquilize chance
I could stick my legs out briefly,
slowly slide along
but I would not see the ocean depths
only sunset 
or sunrise

but here I am
cries of joy on my back
shoulder length hair ebbing and flowing 
with intertidal sand

I feel in this moment as a hermit crab 
taken by the waves 
listless, buoyant, tingling with
anticipation
Where will I land?
With what will I surround my bare body
In search of a new home?

Long hair licking up salt and sand
I take this home with me
I leave lone hairs, flotsam for tomorrow
that night
the salt and sand seep their way 
into my dreams 

Cayce Morrison grew up on Vashon Island, in the Puget Sound. The mountains, forests, and beaches of the West first drew him to asking question about how we relate to the environments around us. In writing poetry, he has felt led to put to words the confluence of feelings, images, interactions, memories stirred up by being present in the natural world.