Into the shallow water
For those a who stumble by here, assuming that there will always be novel expressions of wisdom, sorry. My life, like yours, does ove into shadow, and I do want to reflect on my current reality. The shadowy world of the diminished slght people.
We are in full summer, which means that I do have to go outside on occasion. Given the need to wear dark glasses (blue one, usually), I am best found in places where the footing is hazard free. Like the beach. At the water’s edge. I would not feel at ease, heading out from the house by myself, so I co-opt others into my travels. And we drive over to a beach access, with parking (down by the bug haunts). We can hear each other coming.
From the car, picking the right direction depends on sound. I can hear the surf, so let’s go that way. Throung the mud and the soft sand. Up the rise and over the top. Down through the squeanky sand, and the prickly bits, across the high-high tide line, and (if our timing is correct), into the the ripples and the really shallow water. This is a barefoot activity, and the water temperature tells me much. Like that it won’t be possible to do this, a hundred days hence.
And I was AFK, long enough to go out for a scallop supper. Familiar restaurant, but they have upped the quality. In fact, one of the best platters I have had in years. Give praise where it belongs. At Rick’s.
