It's 5:30 am and we are hurrying out of the cabin for a stroller ride. The beach is deserted. We pass empty chairs and umbrella's. There is room to think. The ocean crashes and a bald eagle calls. The wind is crisp and cool to warm skin. This morning as usual is glorious and we are just in time to watch the sun rise. I found the perfect bag for my sketchbook in a garbage heap outside of someone's gate. Somewhere along this beach I will pause for several minutes to draw. Later I will paint. Summer is a season when life is easy. Everything is dry, there is always lots of light and there is no fire to tend. There is even less laundry.
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