writing on the sand with the wind blowing, oh, betty……

it ended with the miracle of morgan’s creek.
here’s betty hutton;

but it started here, long ago….

taking a cue from the moment, i needed this rainy day.
so did maxx, if we were going to have “dogtime-on-the-beach.”
i walked into the store and made a list of what.
i read the e-mails on the screen and made a list of who.
it was the thread of the previous evening that i picked up when i awoke. the news was on the radio that never slept when i drifted away, book at my side.
i awoke this morning hearing a report regarding twenty investigations about TARP bailout money “irregularities.”
“oh boy,” i said.
i knew there’s been some feasting going on and a trip to the beach might be in order.
the picture above is a chimney that lay on the beach.
there’s a picture of this same thing from a while back with about two and a half feet more of visible chimney.
last week, when i was looking for the big tire, all of that chimney was there and i wrote about how close we might be to the resurrection of said “big tire”.
today, i don’t think so.
i don’t know how it works, whether it’s rain or tide or wind that makes things change so drastically. there’s over two feet of sand where there wasn’t a week ago.

i came here today to see that eduardo cianelli-sounding guy who looks like omar sharif to ask about umbo boxes and greedhound feasts. after hearing the morning news, i’ve come to realize things are just about fine for the grifting lizards from mars and i sighed with relief for no reason i could explain.
did i enjoy this knowledge, that we are part of an intergalactic food-chain and human-battery repository for other aliens that the lizards won’t even tell me about?
i didn’t want to think about that.
gee, you know, the beach looked like it was hit with a sand blizzard.
imagine that;

sorry to harp on this, but i was so truly amazed. while it rained we walked the shore, me and maxx, i couldn’t help but notice how muted the ocean sounded. it was if the bass was turned down on the planetary sound system (at least the speakers located on this part of the earth) or the “dolby” or loudness button cut out.

i came home and reviewed these photos while the cold-to-the-bone slowly dissolved from my body. i basked in the glow of my first piece of “ocean glass”;

i know it’s just a beer bottle, but the edges were naturally worn enough to not cut me so that would have to qualify (for me, at least) to be “ocean glass.”
it’s the best i’ll do from this beach. pictured below is not this beach.

with rain, dog and glass, i left the beach and walked the road to the parking lot…..

bits of green and white and red were in the foliage at either side of the road. yipee. it’s like life is happening all over again and that’s what all that math was about anyway.
when i returned to my car, there was a honda CVr or CRv or whatever it is, parked next to my car.
we knew (me and the eduardo cianelli-lizard-guy) what it was going to be about.
“you didn’t have to ask me a thing,” he said.
“you’re right.”

About stephen trimboli

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