|We're getting married at this spot in Hawaii later this month.|
|I'm reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, who dated Alan Lanier of Blue Oyster Cult.|
I felt the freedom of flowing with the seasons, with life, as I took a run today. I:
* ran from my house across the trestle bridge
* passed by the Boardwalk's creaking and plunging roller coaster
* passed dozens of beach volleyball players
* cruised up the hill by the Dream Inn
|Laural and me in the back car.|
* ran a few miles along West Cliff, a pedestrian-only walkway overlooking the ocean
* enjoyed Vs of pelicans swooping by
|Dave likes to photograph the beasts|
* mentally high-fived the surfer statue
* passed the lighthouse
* viewed kayakers, surfers, swimmers, dogs, frisbee-players
|Main Beach opalescence|
* turned around at Natural Bridges
* enjoyed the mostly downhill cruise back
* and stopped at Cowell's beach, where I took off my shoes to refresh my hot feet in the cool water and then
* walked down more than half a mile of beach back home.
On my barefoot walk up our street back to our pad, I ran into some former students who happened to be heading to the beach. We hugged, laughed at the serendipity of our surprise rendezvous, and basked in the summery-ness of it all.
Summer is the long weekend. June is Friday. July is Saturday. August is Sunday.