the slow cadence of long rolling breakers in the early morning matches my breathing

pelicans skim in formation over the smooth surface of the outstretched sea

San Pellegrino bottles sweat on the porch railing within moments of being positioned for their view of the beach

the chill of the air-conditioned cottage is blissful agony on wet skin in the hot afternoon

the wind off the sound brings with it a whiff of woodsmoke from the mainland fires

books are made to be consumed langorously like soft milk chocolate

a lightweight novel can transport you through the halls of time, and when you return you are still in heaven

a grey day is just as wonderful as a sunny day anywhere else

the waters are a cradle, womb-like, liquid-gentle, humbly loving, eternally changing

the dunes have risen to a protective height, sea oats swaying out of rhythm with the waves