Mike gets himself off to the beach early most mornings. I am not so much of a morning person. I like to linger in my pj's over a cup of coffee and putter around the house a bit. When I'm ready, I walk the couple of miles to the beach, walk up the beach a mile or a bit more where I meet up with Mike out on his saunter.
I usually walk back with him and get a ride home, although if he is too involved in beach scavenging, I have been know to walk home again.
Yesterday was one of those impossibly gorgeous days. I realized after walking along the beach road and down a nearly deserted stretch of beach that I had been in a blissful, zoned out state for some time. The sun was nicely warm and the air at the beach was so soft on my skin. The sounds of gentle waves and birds calling had an almost hypnotic effect. The light sand, the blue sky, the expanse of aqua water--the colors were soothing to my soul. The smell of the beach and the nearly tangible taste of the salt air, the scruff of sand on my bare feet--every sense had been alerted.