When the sun is already a red-orange fireball as it peeks over the eastern horizon at 6:00 a.m., you know what that means? It means we’d better get down to the beach right now, or not go at all.
If we wait, then all the cloud cover will be burned off. It will be too hot, and we will end up crispy critters. That would not be fun. (And we would end up needing our best wrinkle remover for women).
If we don’t go, we will miss the best fat-burning exercise in the world – the brisk little walk down to the pier and back, while breathing smog-free air.
We will also miss seeing the athletic grace and gorgeousness of some of the finest surfers on the planet.
Worst of all, we might not get our heads on straight. Then we could get a ripple or two in our serenity, in case the day should become chaotic. There would be a disturbance in The Force, Luke.
So for the sake of the universe, we must go to the beach. Somebody’s gotta do it!
I’m so glad we did. The tide was a good six feet further out today than it was yesterday. The beach was flat and vast. The clouds were pink and white.
The day promised to be beautiful.
And it was.